


Remembrance

by contranarciso



Category: Naruto
Genre: Child Abuse, Child Neglect, F/F, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Internalized Biphobia, Internalized Homophobia, Internalized Misogyny, Minor Character Death, Misogyny, not that dark but i guess it can be triggery, not very feminist for a while sorry, they learn better, young girls can be ruthless
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:20:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 23,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22667683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/contranarciso/pseuds/contranarciso
Summary: And she’d been so foolish back then, she realized. Not that she was all wise and knowledgeable now. She’d just turned twenty-two, after all. So very young still. But now she knew—and that was one of the things that made living easier, even when she hated herself for the things she did and didn’t do then—that, given the chance, being who she was now, she’d have done it differently. She’d have been better. Been able to see past her crush andseeSasuke. Help him, or get him help, somehow. Been there for Naruto. He was a strong boy, had managed to pull himself back together against all odds, but she could have saved him so much suffering. Just because he could crawl out of hell with half his body blown up and a legion of demons on his tail, doesn’t mean he should.And Ino. Sakura wished, so much, that she’d been better for Ino.
Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Yamanaka Ino, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 28





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is really just me using sublimation to deal with irl problems. Not very healthy, but it could be worse. The story's gonna feel a bit chopped up, since it's Sakura looking back, and memories tend to be kind of like a patchwork with a constant flow. These kids aren't always gonna be politically correct or even good people, but. Isn't that the way with all of us? Main pairing is InoSaku.

Sakura had read somewhere—and the fact that she couldn’t quite remember where kind of proved her point, really—that 50 percent of the details of our memories deteriorate within a year. It’s kind of like gaps within the script of our past, that we fill in with what we have in store already in our brains. And the most interesting part is that most people are completely certain that they’re right about all the made up stuff, that it’s accurate.

Some things make it easier to remember, such as emotions. An emotional memory is easier to remember than a bland one. Something to do with how our memories are mostly stored right next to the emotional brain centre, so much that there’s a bit of an overlap. (However, the lifespan of a memory is the same in both emotional and ordinary memories. We remember  _ core things _ more when it comes to emotional memories, but details are just as unreliable—with the added side effect of us being even more certain that the made-up details are truthful).

Sakura is quite certain herself of the details of the happenings five years ago, and reasonably certain of what happened even further back. But she was no fool. She’d been tinkering and poking and prodding at those high school memories for so long that she’d be surprised if even one of them held anything of truth. She felt (a bit dramatically, perhaps) like a narrator straight from one of those novels: Humbert Humbert, from ‘Lolita’, a slightly bonkers pedophile scholar with childhood trauma and an obsession; or Faulkner’s Caddy Compson, whose existence is presented to the reader by the monologues of her very questionable brothers. Sakura felt like one of those narrators.  _ Unreliable. _

And she’d been so foolish back then, she realized. Not that she was all wise and knowledgeable now. She’d just turned twenty-two, after all. So very young still. But now she knew—and that was one of the things that made living easier, even when she hated herself for the things she did and didn’t do then—that, given the chance, being who she was now, she’d have done it differently. She’d have been better. Been able to see past her crush and  _ see _ Sasuke. Help him, or get him help, somehow. Been there for Naruto. He was a strong boy, had managed to pull himself back together against all odds, but she could have saved him so much suffering. Just because he could crawl out of hell with half his body blown up and a legion of demons on his tail, doesn’t mean he should.

And Ino. Sakura wished, so much, that she’d been better for Ino. 

Sakura saw her on the streets sometimes. It was quite impossible; they lived far away from each other. And wasn’t it pathetic that Sakura couldn’t help but keep tabs on her, knew where she lived, what she had majored in, and, within (very loose) self-imposed limits between healthy concern and stalkerish behavior, knew what happened in her life, was aware of every major milestone she reached. So it was impossible, but still Sakura would see hair the same pale shade as hers, or hear a feminine high laugh—one that used to annoy her, first because the timbre was frankly grating on the ears, and then because she convinced herself that Ino’s voice was more attractive to men. But Sakura’s biased view of Ino’s voice was turned inside out when she found out how it sounded like whispering intimately, or moaning, or shaping around a groan. Now the memory of it (and oh, how it frightened her to think that perhaps she didn’t remember it at all;  _ stupid  _ stupid _ brain, about fifty percent of details deteriorated after a year)  _ just filled her with longing. And guilt.

How had the memories of Ino aged after all this time? Sakura didn’t fancy the math in that.

And about the guilt... Sakura and guilt were best buddies now. Sakura and guilt down the memory lane, every morning when she woke, like a habit or a ritual; every night, in that unfathomable stretch of time after midnight and before sunrise. 

Mostly, it was a daily self-imposed penance.


	2. Chapter 2

Back then, the only problems had been Sakura’s. Young children are said by psychologists to go through a period of extreme egotism, during which they have trouble grasping others’ needs and the limits to their own powers. Hence tantrums. Sakura wondered sometimes if her egotistical period had lasted all of seventeen years. 

She hadn’t seen any of the signs, understood nothing. Or perhaps she didn’t want to, because some small bits of interaction now stood out with such neon clarity that it seems almost impossible that she’d been so oblivious. Perhaps she’d been so focused on her petty wants and needs that she just disconsidered everything else, using her considerable willpower to tunnel vision the life she wanted—and the problems of the people who surrounded her ended up outside her narrow range.

Sasuke was the cutest boy in class. Everybody thought so. Most of the girls wanted him. He, in the way most young boys are, seemed oblivious, or at least unwilling to respond to young Sakura’s lovestruck gaze from across the playground. But it was of no consequence. They’d be together one day. They’d go to prom together, kiss under the starry sky, and oh! Have beautiful children together too. Sakura really wanted to be a mom.

Sakura’s best friend, Ino, wanted Sasuke too. Sakura found that out when she heard Ino talking to another friend of hers about him. Hearing that had made Sakura so so sad. There was no way Sasuke would want  _ her _ if he could have Ino. Sakura’s hair was of a dirty blond; Ino’s was almost silver, all fairy-like. Sakura had green eyes, pretty, but not like Ino’s bright blue. And everyone knew blue eyes were the most beautiful ones, hands down. Ino also had a perfectly well-balanced face, with normal cheeks and chin and forehead, while Sakura had a huuuge forehead, that lots of her classmates mocked her for.

But the biggest obstacle was that Ino was rich. She was a hairess or something (“Heiress, Sakura, love,'' her mother had corrected), and who better to marry a prince than a princess herself? Sakura was just a poor villager, or country girl, or whatever the equivalent of not-fit-for-Sasuke was. Since Sasuke was rich too. He and his older brother were driven to school by a  _ butler. _ Apparently those existed for real, and not only in movies and the Latin soap operas she watched with mom sometimes.

But Sakura really really loved Ino, since her first year, when Ino had defended her from some bullies and asked her to be her friend. Asked  _ Sakura.  _ Sakura had watched Ino from afar for a while, the prettiest girl in class whose things were all Barbie-themed. She’d wanted to approach Ino, but was sure the other girl would laugh in her face and make a mean comment about her forehead too, though Ino had never once joined in on the bullying. Actually, before the day they’d become friends, Ino hadn’t even looked her way. 

“Mom,” Sakura had said when she arrived from school, the day she discovered Ino liked Sasuke too. “Mom, if I really liked a boy, I mean,  _ liked  _ liked…” She interrupted herself. Sheesh, it was more embarrassing to say out loud than she’d anticipated.

Her mother stopped washing the dishes when she heard Sakura hesitating. She picked her child up, though, at six, she was getting a bit big for that. “Go on, luv.”

“If I re-really like a boy… do I like him more than I like Ino?”

“What?”

“Is he more important than Ino? She is my best friend, and he never talks to me, but I can marry Sasuke. And marriage is forever.”

Her mother had looked at her with very kind eyes. Hers were golden-speckled brown, different from Sakura, who inherited her green eyes from her father. They were so nice to watch, like the muddy bottom of a mineral pool.

She seemed to understand what Sakura meant even when words tumbled out of her mouth in almost nonsensical patterns.

“Oh baby, of course you don’t like him more than Ino. You’ve been friends for years. You don’t have to marry Sasuke, you’ll still meet so many nice boys. And there are many many years until you’ll be able to marry. A lot can change.”

Sakura bit her tongue so as not to protest. Mum chastised her when she interrupted her elders. But she wanted to say that she’d never ever meet a boy who’s nicer or cuter or smarter than Sasuke. His hair looked soft and more grown-up than the rest of the boys’, and his grades were awesome too; he was second in class. Sakura was first. She hoped it made him notice her, even if just a little.

“And, you know, friendship can be forever too.” She bopped Sakura in the nose. “You know Auntie Carla? I met her when I was about your age. We’ve been friends since. I’ve known her much longer than I’ve known your father.”

Sakura frowned. She really liked Auntie Carla; she gave her teenager gifts, since Sakura was “edging adolescence” already, as she’d put it. Sakura started using grown-up makeup (just lip gloss and transparent mascara and some blush) even before Ino, whose parents made her use the children stuff, and it didn’t look nearly as good as actual makeup. 

And to think Auntie had known mom longer than dad. They talked more, too. Dad was kind of silent most of the time. Watching tv and reading the newspaper during meals and such. Only sometimes they’d talk, and mom would always seem much happier when talking to Carla. 

“Not that I don’t love your dad, but there’s a place here,” she placed her hand on top of Sakura’s chest, where the heart was, “that’s all your aunt’s.”

Her mother had misunderstood, thinking that Sakura was divided between dedicating her time between her crush and her best friend. Who knew what advice she’d have given had she known the true status quo—that they were rivals in love. But it wasn’t like a more refined explanation would’ve done wonders on her six year old mind, anyway. What she got from her mother’s speech, after all, was that friendship was more important than love. Being the driven girl that she was, Sakura focused all her efforts on that front, and that shaped her following years pretty decisively.

After her mother put her down and told her to go do some homework so that mom could finish her chores, Sakura was a girl with a plan. She nodded, all wised-up now, and gave up, right there in the kitchen, on her half-formed idea to declare Ino her rival in love and and to put an end to their friendship effective immediately. If some part of her wished still for a plot twist, like in those stories where the prince ends up with the poor girl who becomes a princess (and looks much more beautiful after her fairy godmother changes her clothes and styles her hair), Ino wouldn’t know. And it wouldn’t harm her, or their bond.

* * *

When they were twelve, Sakura and Ino had their first Sasuke-related fight. It was a bit surprising that Sakura had managed to maintain a childish crush hidden for so long, when all girls her age seemed to do was gossip about it with their friends. And Sakura had wanted to do it too, but she was nothing if not tenacious, which also explained how she managed to remain crushing on Sasuke for years in the first place. 

Not to say she spent six years thinking about Sasuke constantly, but, like a minor toothache, her crush was always on the back of her mind, occasionally making itself known.

She’d spent those years in the shadows, figuratively and literally. She’d never join conversations about him, but wouldn’t run from them either, and would offer some empty thoughts (that in no way reflected her true feelings) when prompted.

“Don’t you think he’s super handsome, Sakura?” Lily would ask.

“Sure, Lily.”

“OMG, they’re all so obsessed with him,” Ino liked to complain. She’d look down at the other girls who crushed on Sasuke, which only strengthened Sakura’s resolve. She would never tell her friend about her own crush. “Do you think he likes one of them?”

“I’ve never heard Sasuke talking about who he likes, but I don’t think he’d like them. You’re prettier.”

That would make Ino happy and have the fortunate side effect of every girl going to her to talk about Sasuke, since she seemed to be one of the few who wasn’t into him at all. And the ones who were were all mistrustful of each other. Like this, Sakura got to hear about him all the time without even trying. She knew every single thing being said about him and every bit of information they managed to dig up, each one precious since he was such a private boy. 

But Sakura wasn’t all selflessness. She didn’t do it all  _ just _ for Ino. Although it had started that way, some small-growing-bigger-by-the-day part of her noticed how closed off Sasuke was, and how he loathed attention. He’d look at the girls who tried to vie for it with a look so disdainful that Sakura would preen knowing he didn’t see  _ her _ like that. Even Ino, the most popular girl in class, had received a “no, I don’t want to” when she’d asked Sasuke to play Uno with her (Uno had been all the rage in fifth grade). However, when Sakura had asked him, in sixth grade, if their teacher would be handing them the marked essays, he’d said, not exactly pleasant, but not hostile either, that he wasn’t sure, but probably not, since it hadn’t been that long since they’d written it. And he’d even known her name.

Oh, the elation! She’d been so happy to be seen at least with neutrality, and not negatively, that she could’ve died right then! In a sense, she’d told herself, she had more of a chance with Sasuke than all of her classmates. Even a few girls from the next grade had their eyes on the boy, and they were one year older. 

_ Still behind Sakura. _

She’d let that tiny victory fester in her chest so much that it fertilized the soil for Ino and Sakura’s first fight about Sasuke, a couple of months after the marked essays interaction. They were twelve and the day had started out like any other. Some girls were prettying themselves up with makeup (Sakura preferred to do it at home); a few boys played portable video games; Hinata, a shy girl that sat in the back of class, was drawing something on her notebook (she was always drawing, that one); the loud boys, Kiba and Naruto, were being loud; and Sakura was reading a book, the second from The Hunger Games series, she really liked it. However, her attention was barely on Katniss’ adventures on the Arena. Sasuke had missed class the previous  _ week, _ and it wasn’t unheard of for him to miss class, but it wasn’t really all that common. And never more than a day or two, except the one time he’d had conjunctivitis. Sakura was worried.

When he entered class, it was as if a dark cloud had come over the few square meters of their classroom. Sakura’s head snapped up like a puppet pulled by strings. When her eyes fell on his proud, thin body, she’d known immediately that something was wrong. He was arrogant, yes, but more than that he just seemed… really self confident. He was rich, second in class (still behind her), handsome and admired. A lot of reasons to like himself. He didn’t make his spine do  _ that _ to project anything. It felt like one of the times Katniss would have to pretend to be strong when she was falling apart, because she was participating on a reality show and people’s opinions of her meant sponsoring. And sponsoring meant survival on the Arena. Why  _ Sasuke _ would feel the need for it, though...

After the first instant spent contemplating his posture, her eyes fell on his expression, worried and curious for more signs of what was wrong with him. Sasuke’s nose was upturned, his chin making an unnatural angle with the floor, and his mouth was pursed in a haughty grimace. But his eyes, which she couldn’t see clearly given how far up he was holding his head, seemed to be red rimmed.

Crying. Sasuke had been crying. She’d only seen it thrice before, and it had been  _ years _ since last time. The first one had been on his first day of class. He hadn’t wanted his butler to take his brother to the other side of the school, the part reserved for the older kids in Middle School. The other two times, he’d hurt himself playing something in PE class—broken his pinkie playing basketball and twisted his ankle in soccer. Sakura remembered those times well. Seeing him cry made her stomach feel queasy.

Right after she registered that he had been crying, and pretty recently, he plopped down on his chair and took a notebook out of his backpack. He leaned forward, shoulders hunched, and started to write something. The whole class was paying attention, Sakura realised. Even the loud boys had quieted. His proud posture was gone, probably, she thought, to hide whatever it was he was writing. His bangs also covered part of his face and mostly obscured his eyes, which she was sure was part of the appeal of his current position. 

Not long after that, the teacher arrived. Sakura sat through a double English class until the bell rang for break, and, for the life of her, she hadn’t heard one single word Ms. Kurenai had said. As soon as class was finished, the pre-teens poured out like zoo animals set loose, but a few people stayed behind: Sakura, who usually stayed to talk to the teacher; Hinata, still drawing; Shikamaru, a lazy ass who managed to get grades nearly as good as Sakura’s with none of the effort, was sleeping as usual; the girls, who usually preferred to play or gossip outside, stayed, sending worried looks Sasuke’s way; and Sasuke himself.

Sakura overheard her friends whisper-shouting, arguing about who should go speak to him and see if everything was alright. Sakura remembered how uncomfortable the girls usually made Sasuke, and stood up from her chair not to beeline for the teacher’s desk, but towards the bickering teens. She was certain, given her success exchange a few months prior, that she was the most qualified to talk to the sad pre-teen boy and not make things worse.

“Great, Sakura, you’re here,” Ino said when she approached the tight knot of girls. Her voice was angry, taut like a coil about to snap, but the rage wasn’t directed at her best friend. “Tell them  _ I _ should go talk to Sasuke.”

“Uh, Ino… I don’t think that’s the best idea.”

She’d said it as carefully as she could, but Ino still turned to her with fury-reddened cheeks and narrowed eyes. She looked betrayed.

“See, Ino?” mocked Rebecca. “Not even your lackey’s on your side.”

Rebecca’s comment made Ino’s nostrils flare. 

“Do tell, Sakura, why not?”

Sakura recognised a trainwreck when she saw one. She backtracked. “Perhaps we should leave him be, or-or—”

“Nonsense,” Ino snapped. “He needs a friendly shoulder. Shouldn’t I go?”

There was no getting out of it now. She was cornered. What she should do is what she’d been doing since she was six: bow down graciously and let Ino go talk to him. Get some twisted form of pleasure from the verbal lashing out Ino was sure to be delivered from a sullen Sasuke. That’s what she’d been doing for six years, since she found out her best friend liked the same boy as she, because friendships were forever. That’s what being BFFs meant, right? And they had matching bracelets that said precisely that. It had meant more to Sakura than simply jewelry when she'd bought them for Ino's birthday.

And ten years after sixth grade she’d still think about it and be surprised she’d had so much self control, to hold out for so many years, especially considering she’d been a child. But that had been her breaking point. Something about that moment was oddly reminiscent of the part of a story that changed the life of the protagonist, like when Katniss’ sister, Primrose, got selected for the Hunger Games, and Katniss volunteered in her stead, or when Percy discovered he was a demigod and went to Camp Half-Blood, or when Harry found out he was a wizard and went to Hogwarts. This felt like her turning point, and the start of the little fantasy she’d been cultivating since she was six, that the insignificant Cinderella would get the prince. 

She thought, before she spoke then, that Ino would understand if Sakura and Sasuke eventually loved each other, that she’d be happy for Sakura. And there were many princes out there. Ino could find herself another. She couldn’t think of anyone off the top of her head, especially not one of their classmates. Perhaps Sasuke’s cousin, if he had one. Sakura had seen Sasuke’s brother a few times, and their parents too, albeit more rarely. The Uchiha family was very good-looking. Any cousin of his was bound to be, too.

Besides… Sasuke wouldn’t want to speak to Ino anyway. He was sad. And Sakura felt like she was the only one who could help.

“Ino, I…” say it, say it. “I think  _ I _ should go.”

The seconds before anyone spoke seemed to stretch for minutes. Then, a few of the girls snickered.

“You, billboard brow?” taunted Lily.

“See? I told you so,” Rebecca bragged at Ino. Sakura didn’t quite catch her meaning, but the malice in her tone came as no surprise. She'd always gotten the feeling Rebecca didn't like her because she wanted to be Ino's best friend herself. She was always trying to spend time with Ino without Sakura nearby.

Sakura bit her lip. The way the girls were looking at her made her face heat up with embarrassment. She risked a glance at Ino, almost afraid to see her reaction.

Ino was deadly serious, but her eyes had something cold about them. Sakura stood there like an idiot, not knowing what to say to take it back, or to make Ino not look at her like that.

“And you said she was different.” It was Rebecca again, her words scathing, her lip curled with anger and something slimier. After a few seconds, during which the only noise were the nasty giggles of the girls, Rebecca spoke up again. “But go over there, you little  _ slut,” _ Sakura wasn’t the only one who gasped. All the girls looked at Rebecca with shock written all over their faces. They all fought a lot, mainly because of Sasuke, but they never cursed. “If you think you can do a better job than all of us, that is.”

Sakura had heard her fair share of mean things from these girls. They’d never liked Sakura, and never felt the need to pretend that they did. But the one thing that had made their hatred inconsequential was that Sakura knew she had Ino, and the fact that Ino would always protect Sakura.

When Sakura looked at Ino at that moment, however, none of the usual protectiveness could be seen there. Her face was still a little shocked from the swear word, but, aside from that, Sakura only saw mistrust—directed at  _ her— _ and not much else. It made Sakura furious.

Sakura sucked up a  _ lot _ for Ino. She loved her friend, and admired her, and if that meant that she had to give up on things for her, whatever. But Sakura wasn’t  _ spineless. _

“ _ Fine,” _ she spat. “I bet I can.”

Sakura didn’t wait for a response. She turned on her heels and walked straight to Sasuke on the other side of class. If she were a bit less pissed off, and a little less focused on the three sentence conversation they’d had (that she’d recognize as a pathetic fixation on a later date), she might have picked up the strong leave me alone vibes her classmate was giving off. As it were, she kneeled next to him, touched his elbow, making him stop his furious writing, and said:

“Sasuke? Hey, um, it’s me, Sa-”

“I don’t care,” he interrupted, voice low. It looked as if a cloud of aggression had fallen upon him. “Fuck off. And don’t ever touch me again.”

Sakura felt her eyes well up with tears. She took her hand out of his arm as if burned. She felt the weight of the whole class’ eyes on her, and the embarrassment that came with it. Ashamed beyond belief, she stuttered out a nervous laugh and a few nonsensical words to save face. Sasuke had already gone back to writing and ignoring her.

“Oh, come back, forehead girl!” someone yelled as she started to walk really fast, on a semi-run. Laughter followed her out of the classroom.


	3. Chapter 3

If she hadn’t done what she’d done right after the crying Sasuke fiasco, Sakura wondered if she and Ino would’ve remained friends. If it would’ve been better if they hadn’t, for both of them, for Naruto, for Sai, for Hinata. Even for Sasuke, though she was sort of mystified by the memory of him. He wasn’t properly human, or at least it felt like it. More like a nymph—beautiful and strange, whose motivations couldn’t quite be grasped by a mortal’s mind. That made his allure all the more powerful, but also made it difficult for her to, well, humanize him. Properly sympathize, form bonds with, like she had with the rest of her friends. 

Would Sasuke really be affected by something as mundane as Sakura being friends or not with Ino? Did his world turn the other way around, did his sun rise in the east like it did for the rest of them? She had wanted him, but sometimes she thought she never loved him, not even when she was seventeen and it all came to a head. How could one love another if they couldn’t say they truly knew them? Sakura didn’t even know if she could’ve gotten to know him someday. If he would’ve let her, or even if he was  _ knowable. _ But not knowing him, and not being able to know him, made him the best of romantic martyrs: all the mystery of a new love and none of the pathetic, of the ordinary, of the disappointing that marred every other soul on earth. No flesh and blood person could ever compare.

After Sakura had run from the classroom in tears, her mind had started to furiously come up with a plan, and all by herself. She couldn’t talk to her mother now, her one other true friend aside from Ino. The girls, aside from the fact that they were the ones mocking her now, were mostly Ino’s friends, not hers. Sakura used to think it was all their fault, not hers, but maybe that was too simplistic an answer. They didn’t really like her, thought she was a know-it-all teacher’s pet—which she sort of was—and looked down on them—which she would later on admit she sort of did—and they also thought she wasn’t good looking enough to really be in the inner circle. However, they accepted, or tolerated, her because Ino was, if not the leader of them, then the most popular, and smart without being obnoxious, like they thought Sakura was. And Ino liked Sakura more than she liked any of them, and would not hesitate to say so if any of them ever mistreated Sakura.

_ Except from just then,  _ Sakura thought bitterly.

She had to make it okay somehow. Sasuke had just shattered her fantasy into a million pieces, and she was cursing at herself for being so damn stupid. Friendship was forever, and now she went and threw it away for some  _ boy _ who didn’t deserve the time of day. She was actually  _ happy _ he’d cried. Sakura hoped whatever it was kept on hurting and made him cry rivers.

Ino was proud as a bull. Sakura was sore at being called a… a  _ slut _ —God, even thinking about it made her feel mortified—and not being defended, but Sakura was the one who broke the friendship pact first, and would find it in herself to forgive and forget if Ino would do the same with her boy-related lapse.

No Sasuke for Sakura ever again, oh no sir. She’d had her share of her “prince”.

When the bell rang indicating it was time for the next class (History, if Sakura remembered correctly), she walked back to the classroom anticipating the side looks and the snickers, but was unprepared for how the whole class, even the ones who’d left during break, seemed to know already. It hadn’t been much longer than ten minutes. Filthy overachieving gossips. She tried to catch Ino’s eye, but her friend was talking to Lily and looked to be deliberately avoiding looking her way. Sakura took notes and participated in class, wanting to do anything but, if only her sense of duty hadn’t spoken louder. She’d already slacked off during English class, anyway. A couple of hours wouldn’t hurt her.

After the bell rang, there was only PE class and then they were free to go home. She would say she was on her period, since she didn’t fancy spending over an hour running around playing dodgeball. Plus, Sakura might not look it, but she had a strong set of arms on her, and she didn’t like being called she-man when she threw a ball so hard one of the boys fell and embarrassed himself, thus resorting to calling her names. She didn’t like feeling less feminine—and, in her mind, it implied being less attractive, which  _ really _ irked her. Existing next to Ino would already do that to a girl on a regular basis, making her feel worthless and ugly and inadequate. She didn’t need any more reasons to feel undesirable.

And it wasn’t even that Ino called her ugly. She was probably, even more than Sakura’s parents, the person who called Sakura beautiful the most, but she couldn’t help but compare the two of them. Ino was just so effortlessly graceful. Kind of like a swan. And Sakura was a little bit good looking, she knew, and liked dresses and makeup. But somehow, while in Ino it all fit together seamlessly, all Sakura’s features just seemed to be put together to make a bigger picture that was overall odd. Almost pretty face, if not for the forehead. Almost girly, if not for her strength and short temper and tendency to punch boys harder than any other boy could when they did something that really annoyed her.

Her PE teacher, Maito Gai, didn’t think much of it when she said she was on her period. He treated the “woman’s youthful blessing” with a reverence born of both his overenthusiastic ways and his absolute respect for the “gift of life”. It was all said in as loud a voice as he could make it, and to tell him you menstruated was as good as announcing it loud and clear for the rest of the class.

Another few snickers. She bore it stoically. It didn’t matter, their opinions didn’t matter.

The game started, and Ino was a tough girl to kill. She wasn’t very strong, and couldn’t throw a ball with momentum enough to really surprise anyone but the weakest, but she was fast, could dodge like a contortionist and had reasonable teamwork. It was the way with these things: most of the girls died pretty fast, relying only on dodging skills, and even that most of them didn’t excel at. Sakura and Ino would usually be the last ones standing when they’d play together, two girls in the midst of a bunch of loud, raunchy boys, and would make it a us vs them kind of game. It was fun.

Finally, someone managed to hit Ino. it had been that crass boy, Kiba, who’d snuck his dog whatever-its-name-was to school once and had nearly gotten suspended. She once overheard him talking to the other boys about  _ masturbation _ and how his…  _ spunk... _ had been so abundant it hit him on the hair and covered his face, his whole chest and even the wall. Kiba cheered loudly and asked for a kiss as Ino went to sit down at the bleachers.

“I’d rather kiss that flea ball you call a dog, Inuzuka,” she retorted.

Naruto hollered. “She got ya there, man!”

“Akamaru is a squeaky-clean dog, you witch!”

Sakura approached Ino timidly and sat down next to her. “Hey," she greeted.

“What do you want.” It was so flat it barely sounded like a question. It wasn’t hostile per se, but it was a far shot from amicable.

“I want to apologize. And explain myself.”

Ino didn’t say anything, so Sakura didn’t either, until Ino snapped, “Well, out with it. This game is nearly finished, and I want to join in on the next one too.”

Sakura felt her hands get clammy with nerves.  _ The plan, stick to the plan. _

“You know, I-I see how Sasuke treats all of the girls. He’s… he’s mean for no reason. Remember the time you asked him to play with you and he dismissed you?” Ino’s mouth pursing into a surly pout was answer enough. “I didn’t want that to happen again, and not to you, and today he seemed especially angry. I went over to convince you not to do it, but you wouldn’t listen, and then Rebecca called me names, and you said  _ nothing.” _ The last part is said as an accusation, and a shadow of guilt goes through Ino’s face.  _ Good, _ Sakura thought. “So I had to prove her wrong, so I went there and  _ he _ got to call me names. It’s Call Sakura Names day, it seems.”

Ino had been staring straight ahead, at the game, as Sakura spoke, but, despite that, her face had softened a fraction. 

“You did it for me?” She sounded as if she didn’t really believe it.

“For who else?” The lie came naturally. It almost always did. It didn’t feel like a lie if it was part of a plan.

Ino’s face snapped in Sakura’s direction. Her eyes were narrowed dangerously, and her high voice in anger lashed out like a whip.

“You’ve  _ never _ spoken about any boy! Rebecca kept telling me, been saying it a long time, but I didn’t believe it—she said you’d liked Sasuke always, and never told me and pretended not to to steal him from under my nose! She said you’re a snake and that you’re not my friend. And I didn’t believe it no matter how many times she said it, but then you went and wanted to go to him today—”

Ino’s voice had, somewhere along the way, lost its sharpness as her eyes filled with tears. It felt awful seeing her cry. Sakura felt she had to assuage her friend better, give her something to ease her worries, to make her stop crying.

“I don’t!” Sakura said a bit desperately. Her hands flailed around, not knowing what to do. She wanted to touch Ino, hug her, rub her arm and back, offer some comfort, but she didn’t know if she’d be allowed to. Ino was very particular about who touched her. She never let strangers or people she wasn’t on good terms with touch her. “I don’t like him,” she repeated.  _ You need more, Sakura. She’s still crying. _ Then, in a stroke of genius, “I have a crush on someone else! It’s, er-” One of the boys from the grade above theirs. They were crushable. Neji, Gaara, even the odd gymnast Lee with the bowlcut. “It’s-” she looked forward and her mind latched onto the first figure her eyes laid on, feigning he’d throw the ball to the left and going right. “Naruto.”

His wild monkey cheer echoed in the gymnasium when his ball managed to hit someone.

Oh shit. At least Ino had stopped crying from the shock.

_ “Naruto?!” _

Yeah, Ino,  _ Sakura _ was surprised herself. __

_ No panicking, work with it. _

“Yeah, it’s uh, it’s Naruto. I didn’t want to tell you because…” Sakura was on the verge of slicing her own throat open with the rusty nail she saw laying next to her tennis shoes. “I knew you’d react like this. I know you don’t like him, you think him stupid—”

“He is!” Ino shrieked.

And he really really was. When Kiba had said his  _ spunk _ (and what a disgusting little word that was) had nearly drowned him, Naruto had announced proudly that  _ his _ had shot off so fast it had ricocheted off the ceiling and broken his bedroom window like a tennis ball.

Sakura didn’t hate him, but she’d frankly prefer if he stayed on his side of the planet, and she on hers. But now she apparently was into him. She just hoped Ino wouldn’t tell anyone and ruin whatever reputation Sakura still had.

Sakura managed to gather some self-righteous anger to make it more believable. She was uncomfortable at the idea of pretending to like Naruto, but she couldn't deny her heart felt much lighter now. There was none of the hostility in Ino’s gaze that had been there previously.

“Don’t talk about him like that! He’s, uh, the one that I like.” Projecting even more indignation, she added, “How would you feel if I called Sasuke arrogant and mean?!”

“Take that back!”

“You know it’s true, Ino!”

Ino crossed her arms and mumbled around a pout, “He’s just a little shy.”

“If so, then Naruto is just a little…  _ very... _ friendly.”

Ino’s disgusted face was hilarious. The two of them dissolved into a fit of giggles, and just like that their friendship felt like it was mended as if it hadn’t been torn at all. 

Sakura had lied her ass off in that conversation. And hadn’t felt the slightest bit of remorse. Not until much later she’d notice a pattern. Things would get out of her control, which would make her panic and try to make it right by lying, already anticipating the outcome. From that realisation to actually acknowledging herself manipulative was only a small jump, but one her mind had rebelled against for a long while. It made her feel untrustworthy and villainous. 

And perhaps she was all of those things, she reasoned. Long hours were spent wondering if, despite that, she could still be considered a good person.


	4. Chapter 4

Sakura wasn’t even sure there was a word to describe how foolish she’d been, thinking she’d just blurt out she had a crush on Naruto and that would be it. Naruto had always had a bit of a crush on her, too, she thought. His whiny, annoying voice would get even whinier when speaking to her, and every word he spoke about her seemed to be underlined with admiration. He seemed to think she was smart and pretty, and got even louder around her, as if seeking attention, or validation. Sakura had to admit a small part of her preened at being wanted, but that it was Naruto especifically that wanted her was of no consequence.

But it seemed as if she wasn’t the only one who'd noticed Naruto’s infatuation. After a week, a girl she’d never spoken much with sat next to her during break and asked her if she was into Naruto.

“Wh-why would you think that?” Sakura asked, mortified.

“He likes you too, you know.”

When Sakura confronted Ino, the other girl looked as self-satisfied as a recently fed beast.

“You’re too shy, Sakura! And to think you hid it from me for years… If you’d told me sooner, you’d be dating by now. He’s  _ so _ clearly into you!”

“So you told everybody?!”

“Yes! So it would reach his ears eventually. I’m doing you a favor.”

The following day her predictions showed to be true. At the end of class, when Sakura was waiting for the school bus to arrive, Naruto approached her, silent as a shadow, and nearly scared the living daylights out of her. The few students who were also waiting for the bus nearby laughed at their antics.

“ARE YOU CRAZY, YOU IDIOT?!” she roared. “WHY WOULD YOU SNEAK UP ON ME LIKE THAT?”

Looking appropriately chastised, Naruto put his hands behind his neck and apologized with a sheepish smile.

“Sorry, Sakura. I wanted to surprise you.”

After the initial shock had faded, she remembered the very thin ice she rested upon when it came to him. Oh dear, of all the uncomfortable situations she’d faced…

“What do you want?”

His cheeks and the bridge of his nose turned pink with embarrassment. He really wasn’t all that bad looking, she figured. He had big blue eyes and a cute-ish face. She still hadn’t quite gotten used to the whisker marks he’d cut on his own face when he was eight—the whole school had been a bit scandalised when he’d gone through the gates with scars still raw and bleeding a little. His hair was a bright blond, lighter than Sakura’s and much more flashy than Ino’s, and the hairstyle really didn’t do him many favors, but he wasn’t  _ ugly. _ He was perhaps a bit on the small side, even shorter than Sakura, but not unappealing. If not for his dreadful personality, that is.

“I wanted to ask you on a date, Sakura! For the movies, or something… but if you wanna do anything else, I’m game, alright!”

Sakura grimaced, wondering if she should just break his heart already and be done with it, or if she should drag it out to not jeopardise her mending friendship with Ino. Things were still the slightest bit tense between them, and Rebecca still looked at Sakura nastily. She was probably feeding Ino lies (that weren’t exactly, one hundred percent lies, whispered her conscience, a withered, half-dead little thing), and Sakura felt as if she was still on shaky terrain, out of the woods, but just barely.

“Uh-” She decided, then, that she really didn’t care about Naruto, or how he would feel if she played with his feelings. They weren’t friends, anyway. “My dad doesn’t let me go on dates yet. He says I’m too young.”

“But we’re twelve!”

Why did every sentence he spoke came out with that much inflection? Not to mention he had an awful tendency to overuse exclamations, especially “alright”. She could feel a headache approaching already. Normal people didn’t speak that enthusiastically. It was beyond annoying.

“Dad says he’ll only let me date a boy when I’m sixteen. You know… after my sweet sixteen party.”

There. A reasonable response that still meant she was into him without having to be around him for the foreseeable future—or, god forbid, having to  _ kiss _ him on a date.

“That’s only four years! I’ll wait for you, Sakura, okay? And when you’re old enough we’ll go to the movies and I’ll go to your house to ask your dad for permission, and-and you’ll be my girlfriend, yeah.”

His smile when he came to that unfortunate conclusion was so happy Sakura felt a bit bad for him. Before she could come up with something to say, she heard the school bus’ honk—the driver started honking all the way down the street to alert the kids he was here. 

“In the meantime…” Naruto started.

“In the meantime, what?”

Sakura unglued her eyes from the approaching bus and turned back to him. She didn’t have time to say anything else before Naruto’s chapped lips touched her own, quick and almost hard enough to be uncomfortable.

“What the-” she said when their lips were no longer touching.

“For us to have something to look forward to. Bye, Sakura!”

He ran away crackling loudly, leaving Sakura stranded and shocked for a few seconds. The bus driver shook her out of her reverie.

“You getting in or what, girl?”

The fact that there were other children around and that some were gossiping about their kiss didn’t register in Sakura’s mind. She grabbed a seat by the end of the bus and looked through the window the whole ride back home, wondering how things had changed so completely in just over a week. Now she was no longer into Sasuke, had gotten into a fight with Ino, had kissed for the first time…! It hadn’t even been with a boy she loved. She’d always thought her first kiss would be with someone special. Not to mention she had so many lies to juggle now that she was afraid they would all come tumbling down like the time she tried to juggle three raw eggs and ended up dirtying most of the kitchen floor and part of the cabinet doors. 

At least the Naruto lie was on hold for four years.


	5. Chapter 5

She remembered, vaguely, her parents whispering to each other during that turbulent week. But she reasoned with herself that it was probably one of those imagined memories, since it’s likely only the key aspects of those days resisted the pull of time. Certainly something as insignificant as a minor change in her parents’ behavior wouldn’t take precedence over the maelstrom that had seemed to take over her life. It had all felt very massive to her.

It was odd, wasn’t it, that the worst moment of a person’s existence could be perceived to someone else as just another day in the life, or be remembered as  _ that time I had a minor squabble with my best friend _ , all the while that person’s whole world had just been torn apart.

The day Naruto stole her first kiss, in the evening, she was doing her maths homework—it wasn’t due for the next four days, but she liked to be on top of her assignments—when a particularly tricky problem made her go in search of her parents for help. She found them in the living room, sipping on coffee and watching the news.

“Mom, dad, I-”

She froze. Luckily, she hadn’t spoken loudly, and, anyway, her parents were so focused on the tv they probably wouldn’t have heard her unless she’d made a ruckus. 

Those were Sasuke’s parents on the news, Mrs. Mikoto Uchiha and Mr. Fugaku Uchiha. Sakura read the headline.

_ Police Commissioner and wife found dead in marriage bed. Older son is the primary suspect. _

Sakura covered her mouth so that her shocked gasp couldn’t escape. Sasuke’s beloved, almost revered older brother,  _ murdered their parents?! _ How had Sakura not known this? It should be the talk of the school! Especially with Itachi involved. Itachi was no longer a student there, having graduated a year ago, but still. He had been one of their most prized students! He’d gotten into an Ivy League with a scholarship, for chrissakes. 

“Mom? Dad?!” she called more loudly. They snapped their heads in her direction, looking guilty, and her mother scrambled to turn the tv off. “Sasuke’s parents are dead?”

“I-uh… yes, dear,” her dad said finally.

“When?”  _ Had it been-? _

“About two weeks ago. There was news that the Police Commissioner had been killed, but the investigation was being kept a secret until just now. They’d been withholding information to make it easier to find out who did it, and to look for Sasuke's brother. They'd thought he was missing. Police Commissioners have a lot of enemies, so they kept it on the low until they had a lead.”

“And now it’s on the news because they found a suspect.”

“Yes. Sasuke’s… brother.”

She hadn’t seen her parents this uncomfortable since they’d had to give her the talk about the birds and the bees. Perhaps not even then. As an adult, Sakura acknowledged that the ugliness of the world, the violence, the hunger, the atrocities, were much more obcene than your average sex. Perhaps even more than your filthy, kinky sex.

Two weeks ago. Just about when Sasuke had started missing school. And a week later, when he finally went, eyes red from crying—

“Oh god, I’m an awful person,” Sakura whispered to herself. And to think she’d wished for him to suffer even more...

“What, dear?”

“Uh, nothing, paps. I’ll, I’ll go finish my homework.” She turned on her heel.

“Don’t you wanna talk about it?” her dad called out. “You must be confused.”

“Can I bake some cookies with you tomorrow, mom?” Sakura said absentmindedly, to get them off her back. She’d eat the cookies herself. “To give to Sasuke.”

“Sure, dear.” Her mother sounded a bit worried.

“I’m fine, you guys. Love you.”

“Love you too,” they echoed.


	6. Chapter 6

The days that followed Sakura’s discovery, she started to notice things she hadn’t before. How the teachers would send worried glances Sasuke’s way. And how (still) he remained resolutely facing down, hunched in on himself, and wrote. In those few days, the rumor about his parents’ death spread throughout the school, and, considering they were over one thousand kids from four to eighteen, it was no easy feat. Sasuke would go through the school gates and be met with  _ dozens _ of whispering teens. And still he maintained his spine erect and his steel gaze unwavering. More strength than anyone their age should be required to possess, and much more than Sakura suspected she herself had.

She felt unbearably guilty. And self-absorbed. She and the rest of the girls had been fighting about who would get to console Sasuke, when the boy had just gone through that horror. When she spoke to them, Ino and a few others recognised they’d been out of line, and agreed to keep their distance, though a couple of them insisted they should try and speak to him. But thankfully no one dared.

Sakura wanted to make it better too, somehow. Her anger at him had flickered out like a candle’s flame, and she felt worried. She didn’t blame him at all for snapping at her. Who knew how  _ she _ would react if put in circumstances such as those? She was sure he was doing his best. But she felt too guilty, and too afraid of making it worse somehow, if she offered to be there for him.

They’d never even properly spoken. He should be getting help from a friend, not a virtual stranger. And, if she was being honest with herself, now that she knew that he had just been going through a very tough moment, and not being deliberately cruel, she found that her feelings weren’t altogether dead. But she now had the maturity to keep her distance, not so much for Ino as it was for Sasuke himself.

Oddly enough, the only person Sasuke seemed to bear to talk to was Naruto. Naruto had always been horrid to Sasuke: picking fights, undermining him (which was basically false bravado, since Sasuke was miles ahead of him in any aspect of their lives), calling him names… Sakura had always been a bit puzzled that someone like Sasuke would steep so low as to acknowledge Naruto’s nonsense rivalry, but he always had, and the longest she’d ever seen him speak,  _ ever, _ was while bickering with Naruto. And the most passionately, too. In class presentations, he’d just be apathetic and succinct, but, with Naruto, he’d spit fire and throw back insults as good as he got, and that was saying something. Naruto had an awful dirty mouth, and was  _ quite _ creative when it came to insults. 

For someone who’d always been so laser-focused on Sasuke, registering, after years, that he had no friends came as a shock to Sakura. Perhaps it was that everyone wanted to be his friend, so loneliness never seemed to come in the same thought process as Sasuke. The two of them weren’t even in the same semantic  _ universe. _ But he was, Sakura noticed finally. He was alone, with dead parents and a missing, potentially murderous brother—and would he ever come back for Sasuke? Finish what he started? What an awful notion.

It was nearly inconceivable when Sakura saw Sasuke treating Naruto just as he always had. Gone were the hunched shoulders, and also the unnaturally stiff posture. He seemed almost… normal. Well, for a kid whose parents were murdered overnight in the room next to theirs. 

But it ran the other way around too. The only person who neither avoided him  _ nor _ treated him as if he were made of glass was Naruto. There were no words of comfort from that boy. He’d just cuss and bicker and treat Sasuke exactly as he’d always had. Sakura supposed she could see the appeal of his approach to Sasuke.

Over the next year, Naruto also made himself a constant in Sakura’s life. He hadn’t tried to kiss her again, and guaranteed he wouldn’t until she was old enough. But he’d started talking to her, in that god awful annoying voice, with his incessant chatter, and somewhere down the line they became friends. Ino wasn’t his biggest fan in the beginning, seemed resentful of the time Naruto “took” from her time alone with Sakura, but, if not befriended him, she had at least… acclimated to him. She still got jealous sometimes, and still went berserk on him when he spoke ill of Sasuke, but then again, so did Sakura, and it became their little dysfunctional trio.

Naruto still liked her, Sakura was aware. It wasn’t super obvious, but sometimes he’d be his infuriating loyal self (he took the ‘friendship is forever and friends protect each other’ motto to a whole new level) and Sakura would be reluctantly charmed. She’d compliment him, or give him a tighter than usual hug, or call him adorable—Ino sometimes accused her of leading Naruto on, pulling on his leash, but she couldn’t help it when he was endearing—and he’d blush a funny shade of pink all over. He’d even gotten more good looking, growing into his features (now his hair wasn’t too big for the rest of his head), getting taller and voice deepening the slightest bit. Despite it all, she couldn’t make herself like him. He’d become like a brother to her, and the thought of it being anything more made her feel antsy and nauseous. 

In eighth grade, the unexpected happened. Sasuke (not Sakura, mind you,  _ Sasuke) _ spontaneously walked up to her and started a conversation. She hadn’t spoken to Sasuke aside from the inevitable school-related talks in about two years, since his parents had died, but she’d watched the boy from afar. When the novelty of him being a survivor wore off, the people who’d once been so eager to suck up to him started to maintain their distance, and even the besotted girls laid back a little. His one friend was undeniably Naruto. She noticed this when the pairing fight happened, between her and Ino.

In partered assignments, Ino and Sakura would  _ always _ be together. Sakura suggested that they alternated: sometimes they’d do it together, sometimes Sakura would join in with Naruto, and Ino could partner with one of the girls. Kiba, who was Naruto’s friend since they were in diapers, usually partnered with him, but he’d gotten a girlfriend (Lily, for everyone’s surprise) and the girl demanded that he’d pair with her. Naruto had been left all alone. His other friends, Shikamaru and Choji, were  _ each other’s _ best friends, and had no space for him in their little duo. So Sakura had felt bad, and suggested the compromise to Ino. 

Ino hadn’t spoken to her until she apologized and promised to be her pair every single time.

Then, Naruto and Sasuke started doing their assignments together. It wasn't as if people were falling over themselves to pair with Sasuke; it seemed that no one wanted to partner with the orphan kid either. So they created a routine that, it appeared, pushed Naruto to do better—his grades improved in a way not even Sakura’s nagging had managed to achieve—and made Sasuke lay back a little, offered him another person’s presence, human interaction. The two of them even did  _ homework _ together, Sakura found out. 

They became friends, actual friends. It wasn’t obvious, especially when Sakura was more used to a girl’s brand of friendship—displays of affection and physical contact—so noticing that rivalry and cursing and antagonism could also be part of a true and deep bond was shocking. Naruto had adapted and shown Sakura love and appreciation, for that was the kind of friendship she valued, but his own devotion was translated otherwise, through protectiveness and scary-deep dedication and spending as much time as he could near someone. And those were all aspects she noticed in his treatment of Sasuke.

Sakura thought Sasuke didn’t care as much for Naruto as Naruto did for him, and if it were anyone else, she’d be furious someone wasn’t valuing her friend enough. But Naruto was all Sasuke had, and Naruto didn’t seem at all sad or heartbroken not to be liked back in the same intensity, so she was simply happy Sasuke had someone so loyal by his side.

However, that unexpected conversation, the first they’d had in over a year, made her reevaluate.

“Sakura,” a deep voice said from behind her. She jumped in surprise. “I need to talk to you. Can you stay a bit later?”

She simply nodded.

They were nearing the end of the last class of the day, and Sakura was  _ tired. _ For the past two weeks she hadn’t been sleeping properly, too busy studying like a convict for exams week, and though the tests were all done, she still hadn’t caught up with the lost sleep hours. All she wanted was to go home and nap the entire afternoon off, but. She couldn’t deny she was curious now, sleep be damned.

After class was finished, Sakura stayed behind, pretending to still be making notes on her notebook. Ino said goodbye, blowing her a kiss, and Naruto tried to smile at her, but it didn’t quite work around the bruise he’d gotten on his eye and cheek from falling down during a soccer match. 

Sakura and Sasuke left the classroom one after the other, and sat down at a more secluded bench near the Elementary School section.

“He-hey Sasuke. How’re you doing?”

Sakura felt unbearably nervous around Sasuke. He hadn’t gotten any less handsome—if anything, he was taller, now, his voice deeper, his gaze more intense in some unidentifiable way. Sakura felt faint.

“I’m not here to chit chat,” he started, abrupt and not very polite. “I gotta get home soon, and I’m sure you do too. This is about Naruto.”

She was still reeling a bit from being treated so rudely, but a few words registered.

“Naruto? What’s wrong with-”

“I’m sure you’ve noticed the bruises on his face.”

“Uh, sure? They’re from playing soccer.”

“Don’t tell me you’re that dumb, top of the class.”

Sakura nearly hissed at the insult, but her brain was slowly processing what he meant, and she was starting to get frightened.

“What do you mean? What do you think it’s from?”

“What do I  _ know _ it’s from.” Sasuke looked at her with dark eyes so protective and filled with so much righteous anger that she wondered how she ever thought he didn’t care. “Have you ever been to his house? ‘Cause I haven’t. I tried to suggest we study there, but he freaked out, so we’d always go over to mine.”

His lips pursed as if in deep thought. His whole body was tense.

“A few days ago he was having trouble with maths, so I helped, even though he kept trying to go home, saying his parents wanted him back at shit o’clock sharp.” His little huff was derisive, at himself, at Naruto, or at the notion of a curfew, Sakura didn’t know. She wondered if he had a curfew now that he had no parents. “But exams were around the corner, and I insisted. He started to get nervous, stupider than usual, sweating… I let him go, but I had a feeling something was wrong, so I followed him.”

He swallows dry, adam’s apple bobbing. Sakura was genuinely freaked out.

“He-” Sasuke tries. Clears his throat, tries again. “He arrived home, and a man dragged him inside by the hair just as he—stepped on the doormat. I looked through the living room window. He got beat up, Sakura. Bad.”

Oh.  _ “Oh.” _

“Yeah,  _ oh.” _

His demeanor was all hostile, but she didn’t feel like it was directed at her, not exactly. More like he had all this hostility, and it didn’t know what to do except leak out.

“Why are you telling me this? What do you think we should do?”

_ “We _ do nothing.  _ You _ are going to talk to him and ask him if he wants  _ you _ to call social services.”

She kept thinking about Naruto’ bruise… there had been so many over the years! She’d just thought he was clumsy and reckless. They weren’t all that common, but every month or so, a tiny one would appear. Or a bigger one every three months, give or take. Frequent enough for it to be very worrisome. Which ones had been the work of his father? Sakura’s parents didn’t believe in physical punishments, preferring to ground her if they thought necessary. And it rarely ever was; she was pretty well behaved.

For a dad to do something like that to his child… 

“It must be happening for God knows how long…” Sakura whispered, heart aching.

Sasuke shrugged, an eyebrow raised and a sardonic little smirk on. Like he was acknowledging how much life sucked, and, to him, it was somehow ironic. It was off-putting to see on a fourteen year old.

“I still don’t understand why you’re telling me this,” she said, confused. “Why don’t you just… talk to him yourself. Why come to me?”

“You’re Naruto’s friend.”

“And you aren’t?!” Perhaps she misunderstood and he really felt nothing for Naruto. And right now she really didn’t care Sasuke had no one else; if he didn’t give a crap Naruto was being abused, she would punch him so hard he’d be shitting his own teeth.

“He…” His mouth did something suspiciously close to a pout, and he turned his face away, lifting his nose so high up in the air it was slightly reminiscent of a younger, much more popular Sasuke, the one she’d fallen in childish love with all those years ago. She would’ve smiled, had her heart not felt so heavy. “I guess we are. In a sense. But he’s closer to you. I think—he’d probably take it better if it were you meddling in his personal business.”   


She thought there was something implicit there.

“Are you…  _ afraid _ he’ll be mad at you if you talk to him?”

He looked at her in alarm, bright red staining his cheeks. She’d never seen him blush.

“Don’t be stupid, forehead!”

Given the circumstances, the name didn’t bother her all that much.

“Are you afraid you’ll lose your BFF?” she teased.

“Fuck you.”

She laughed a little, taking delight in how he was mortified and fidgeting, before sobering up.

“Why don’t we… or rather,  _ I,” _ she corrected pointedly, “don’t call social services anyway? I mean, without talking to him first. Like this, he won’t even know who said it.”

The suggestion was met with sizzling anger.

“Are you out of your mind?!” he hissed. “It’s none of our business.” He stared at her with judgemental eyes, as if she’d already gone behind Naruto’s back and told social services, the police and the local news to boot. “It’s his family. The only person who should decide if he wants to be with them or not is him.”

She understood, from what he'd said, how his beliefs were marred by his trauma with his own family. She supposed he wasn't a boy to take losing one's parents lightly.

“Oh, Sasuke…” she said pityingly.

It seemed it was the wrong thing to say, for Sasuke shot out of the bench like a rocket.

“Whatever," he snapped. "Talk to him. And don’t dare go behind his back.”

* * *

The following day, Sakura sat Naruto down on the floor on the most remote part of school, a precaution that was almost unnecessary, since classes had already been finished for about half an hour. Brimming with nerves, she took a deep breath and stared him in the eyes. She wasn’t trying to make him uncomfortable or to make some power play to intimidate him and make him favorable to saying yes to social services. She was just curious. 

How,  _ how _ had one of her best friends gone through that and she hadn’t noticed? How had one of her classmates, even (considering she’d known Naruto far longer than she’d been his friend), gone through that and she’d remained oblivious? Was anyone else going through anything similar? That bruise… how silly she’d been to believe it’d been caused by a stumble during soccer. She remembered the time he came to school with a split lip… how had she believed he’d  _ bit it? _ Was it sheer stupidity, or something a bit more voluntary? Was she so focused on herself, on cataloguing every little detail about Sasuke from a distance, that she…?

She snapped out of her thoughts. Oh no. Oh dear. Naruto was  _ crying. _

“Na-Naruto?!” she shrieked. “Oh god, are you okay?”

She jumped forward on an impulse and hugged him tight.

“Sa-Sakura… you’re… crushing me.”

She let him go at once.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you were-”

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. They were still red and teary.

“Hey, don’t even try it, alright! Not gonna work, no no. I beat you fair and square, lil’ Sakura.”

Beat her?

“What are you  _ talking _ about?”

“The… staring contest?” Now it was Naruto’s turn to be confused. “Okay, you lost me there, Sakura.”

Fucking… stupid…

“DON’T EVER DO THAT TO ME, YOU MORON!” she yelled. Thankfully there were alone, otherwise everyone in a fifty meters radius would’ve heard her. “I’m worried, you piece of shit! Fuck you! I should fucking break your neck!”   


Naruto looked absolutely shocked. And Sakura didn’t blame him. At fourteen, she rarely, if ever, swore. He got even more agitated when her eyes turned glassy with tears.

“O-oh Sakura, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to frighten you. I swear I thought we were having a staring contest, I swear on my life, alright! We do it all the time. Sakura, please talk to me?”

Sakura rubbed her closed fists over her eyes roughly. She decided to get right to the point.

“Naruto, I know that bruise on your face wasn’t from a soccer match.”

The abrupt change in tone, almost as much as the words themselves, gave Naruto pause. When he understood what she meant, he laughed nervously.

“Ahahah! You’re right, I- I bumped into a wall. I didn’t tell you guys because I didn’t want you to call me stupid. Silly me, huh. But you gotta admit, Sasuke would never let me live it down!”

After a few seconds, he was almost completely recuperated, Sakura noticed, back to examining her friend almost unconsciously. His smile had the usual joy and his eyes had gotten their spark back. How many of those had looked genuine, and how many times had they led her to believe everything was fine with him?

“Not this time, Naruto,” she said, one hundred percent serious. He frowned. “I know your dad’s been beating you.”

He turned as serious as she.

“And how would you know that?”

Was that her friend in front of her? She felt her arm erupt in goosebumps; his demeanor had changed at the drop of a hat. Had he been faking? Was he always faking?

“How I know it doesn’t matter. Why haven’t you told anyone? One of the teachers, or our vice-principal?”

The school’s vice principal, Mr. Hiruzen Sarutobi, dealt with Elementary School children and Middle School teens like them, and split some other duties with the main principal, Ms. Tsunade Senju, who also took care of the High School section. Something as drastic as child abuse could be reported to any regular teacher, who would, in turn, speak to the vice principal, or Naruto could’ve just went to Mr. Sarutobi himself.

“Oh, that old goat?” He scoffed, in a very un-Naruto way.  _ “Right. _ A whole lot of good he did helping Sasuke after his family’d been fucking butchered. Why would he care if my uncle gets a little belt-happy sometimes?”

Her eyes widened, and then narrowed dangerously. She grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him forward to have a closer look at his wounded cheek.

“Belt-happy? Belt-happy?! I know a punch when I see one, Naruto Uzumaki, don’t treat me like a fool!”

“Belt, punch, whatever. He’s strict and he punishes a bit harder than most dads. It’s not that much of a biggie.” Naruto shrugged, and Sakura felt as if she was losing this argument irreversibly. “Anyway, you’re lying too. You  _ definitely  _ don’t know what a punch looks like. This shiner’s been on me for days, and you only freaked out now.”

She inhaled deeply to keep her cool. She  _ was _ the one best suited to talk to Naruto, dammit, but it was tough even for her. He’d probably have another black eye to match his left side had Sasuke been the one trying to talk (more like beat) some sense into him.

“Okay, nevermind. No Hiruzen.” She raised her hands up as if in surrender. “What about social services, huh? They could fin-” Naruto’s eyes widened. Shit shit, backtrack. “Talk! They could  _ talk _ to your father… I mean, your uncle. Maybe some family therapy; I heard there’s one of those.”

“Find me another home. _ Find me another home, _ that’s what you were gonna say, right?!” Naruto’s nostrils flared, and, furious like this, he looked like some sort of angry feline, ready to pounce or show claws or something. It was deeply unsettling, and, if Sakura was being honest, a little bit scary too.

“And if I was?” she challenged. “Why not? You’d be better off.”

“Better off in the system?” he mocked. "You have no idea what you're talking about. You’ve been sheltered in your cute little family your whole life. You have no  _ clue _ what it’s like. Not to mention I’m fourteen with a history."

He spoke so viciously. This conversation was getting to be too much. Sakura had started trembling, her bottom lip was quivering, and she wasn’t sure, if Naruto kept speaking to her like this, how long she could hold off without crying.

He seemed to notice, and his anger leaked out like a deflating balloon.

“I’m sorry, Sakura, I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s just… It’s really okay! I’m good!” He smiled. “It could be so much worse. My dad, he’s not really my dad, y’know. He’s my uncle, but he tells me to call him dad. My parents died when I was four, and I’ve been on the system since. Bit of a troublemaker, so I’ve been passed around.” His eyes took on a mischievous gleam. “Guess there was just too much Uzumaki awesomeness for them to handle, yeah!”

“Idiot,” Sakura mumbled fondly. A few tears escaped without her permission.

“Then, social services,” he smiled with a tiny hint of irony at the mention, as if to say, ‘see, we’re old buddies already, socials and me!’, “found my uncle, and passed me on to him. Checked up a few times, then washed their hands off me. And I’m better off now. Orphanages and some foster homes are so,  _ so _ much worse.”

And what could Sakura do, if the alternative was worse than what he had? She’d never force him into an alternative that would hurt him more than he was already hurting.

“Why don’t you come live with me? Or Sasuke… although I’m not sure how Sasuke’s been living, what with—”  _ his dead family. _

“He lives with a distant cousin, Obito. Bit of an odd dude; his face is all scarred. Sasuke tells me he got those in the army;  _ I _ think he’s some sort of evil mastermind.” He winked, prompting a giggle out of Sakura. The skin around Naruto’s eyes wrinkled with joy, as if making Sakura laugh made him feel good too. “He doesn’t seem to like Sasuke much, but there’s a home, and enough food. They don’t chat or anything, but I don’t think he hurts Sasuke.” At Sakura’s inquisitive look, he explains, “I go there sometimes to study, remember? Doesn’t seem like the type.”

“Oh, right, I forgot. Guess my brain just can’t really process ‘study’ and ‘Naruto’ in the same sentence.”

“Ha ha ha,” he deadpanned, but his smile was back. She was still unsettled by how fast his mood could change and what that might mean, but seeing him looking happy (even if it was an act, as she’s starting to suspect it is) made her feel lighter.

She was so distracted by his smile that she nearly missed his evasion. Had he done that on  _ purpose? _

“So why not live with Sasuke and evil mastermind, then?” she asked, eyes narrowed to see if he’d try to squeeze his way out of answering again. “Or with me? My parents always wanted another child.”

“Nah, Sakura. I’m good where I am. Dad’s a bit of an ogre, but we understand each other. He’s family.”

She opened her mouth to object—she and her parents could become family too! And Sasuke seems to really care about him, despite being emotionless on the surface. However, before she could object, he stood up.

“Thanks for the chat! I gotta go, though. Don’t wanna make the old man angry, do I? There’s only so much skin to purple.”

He hurried away, laughing, leaving Sakura gaping at him, still sitting on the ground.

* * *

She told Sasuke about her conversation with Naruto, about how he thought he was better off with his dad slash uncle and how he’d declined her offer to live with her.

“Stupid, proud idiot,” Sasuke muttered.

“I’m sorry, Sasuke,” Sakura started, “that I offered up your house for him to live in without checking if it was okay with you first. I just thought, if there is a chance that he’ll accept, and he would prefer to live with you, rather than me… I had to take it.”

Sasuke sighed. “It’s fine. He’d be a pain in the ass to live with, but at least there would be no doubt he would get to school alive every day.”

Was Sasuke implying he thought there was actual  _ life risk _ for Naruto?! Just how aggressive had his uncle been the day Sasuke had spied through the window?

“Thank you,” he said, stoically. Sakura’s eyes widened. “You did well.”

He turned around and left. Sakura gulped, trying to calm down her racing heart, but wasn’t very successful. For her deep consternation, the feelings she’d nurtured for Sasuke (that she’d thought were, if not dead, precisely, at least muted by maturity) had apparently resurfaced with a vengeance, all because of two conversations.


	7. Chapter 7

Still in eighth grade, Ino’s parents divorced, and it was a shitshow. Ino had commented a few times that they didn’t get along very well, but Sakura had always had the feeling she was downplaying it. Once, months before the divorce, when the two of them were having a sleepover at Sakura’s, Ino confessed that half the reason her parents were always fighting was because her dad cheated on her mother repeatedly, and with multiple women. She and her older brother always found out about the affairs one way or another—catching their father out on dates, answering the phone when the mistress of the moment called, hearing their mother scream it at their father during one of their fights. It wasn’t as if anyone involved was trying to be discreet.

Almost every time Sakura had hung out at Ino’s house and both her parents were home, Sakura would notice this heavy  _ aura _ around them, like they radiated discontent just from being in each other’s company. Not to mention how every little thing was an excuse for one of them to take a jab at the other. Before Sakura noticed there was true viciousness in those exchanges, they’d just seemed like any other bickering married couple, but, when she learned better, she started to wonder how Ino had survived such a passive aggressive environment without freaking out, getting angry at her parents or rebelling.

Dealing with Ino’s woes was good for Sakura. It was relatable, it made her feel in her element. Not that her own parents seemed to be anything other than happily married, but there had been so much  _ crazy _ around her lately. Naruto and Sasuke seemed to be on a whole different league, with problems so great she felt only they could understand each other. Sasuke wasn’t even her friend, but she still worried about him constantly. And Naruto had revealed so little, and what little he’d given up had been only because she found out from a third party about the abuse he’d been suffering. Dead parents, missing murderer older brother, physical abuse, whatever it was that Naruto had gone through in his many orphanages and foster homes… she was one hundred percent out of her depth in those matters. But a divorce, and Ino’s emotions—predictable now, after so many years of close friendship—that she could handle.

It felt almost nice, seeing Ino suffer, because it gave Sakura a sense of purpose. It made her feel needed, and useful. It was really shitty of her to think so, but she couldn’t help the way she felt. She just tried to be there for Ino, to listen to her, to be a shoulder for Ino to cry on, be an unbiased party giving her opinion when Ino had to decide who she was going to live with after the divorce.

Ino’s older brother was very difficult. Ino and their parents loved him dearly, and he was a great person, fascinating to talk to, witty and proud. It was always a lot of fun when Sakura and Ino were watching a movie and Ino's brother joined them in the living room, offering up hilarious on-going critique. But that wittiness could become snark, and his pride took an arrogant spin very easily. No one in their right mind would want to get on his bad side. However, he’d taken to hating and demonizing his father like a fish to water, and even his mother’s reproach had no effect on his behavior. He got combative, held no more respect for his dad and threw the most inventive and unflattering insults at his father’s girlfriends' faces. It was a mess, and it made both divorcees miserable.

Ino told Sakura how frustrated it all made her—her brother got to rebel for the both of them, and Ino wasn’t even allowed time to properly grieve her parents’ marriage. She had to be the perfect daughter to compensate for her brother being an awful son, despite being several years younger than him and the one most logically entitled to immaturity. She agreed to split her weeks between her father and her mother: weekdays were her mother’s, and weekends, her father’s. That meant that, when she wasn’t at school, she’d be spending time with her mother (which really took away from her studying hours), and that rarely, if ever, she’d be allowed to go out with friends on weekends. Not to mention she’d be seeing her father’s girlfriend of the hour every week, and she’d have to be  _ polite _ to the bitch. When her mother asked how her ex husband was doing, Ino would have to decide if she would say the truth or not—that he was doing great, definitely better than she was. And she had to go through it all with a smile on her face and nothing but love and understanding for the two people who’d swept the rug of her stability from under her feet, making a huge mess of her life and leaving it up to her to clean it up.

There was nothing Sakura could do to change things… but it felt good because she understood what Ino was going through, or so she thought.

This was one of those moments that hadn’t seemed all that important as they happened, but that took on a whole other meaning in light of later events. Not that what Ino had been going through wasn’t devastating enough on its own, but, had she known then what else factored in Ino’s resentment towards her father, she wouldn’t be so quick to dismiss Ino’s problems as much inferior to Naruto and Sasuke’s.

But Sakura had never thought Ino capable of outright lying to her or omitting anything important, so, for the time being, she suspected nothing.


	8. Chapter 8

Sakura turned fifteen and started High School with a friend who was being beaten up with some regularity by his uncle and a rekindled crush on a boy whose parents had been murdered by his brother. Her life couldn’t get much more fucked up, but Sakura was a firm believer of Murphy’s Law. She was, honestly, just waiting for the other shoe to drop. That shoe being her best friend Ino, who, despite the divorce, seemed to be holding it all together admirably.

Being in High School apparently meant that there was a party nearly every week. Kiba lived near their school and his mother’s work entailed traveling for a bunch of days in a row. So he made his house available to parties on the condition that no one broke anything and helped clean up after they were done. He and Lily were still going strong, surprisingly, and she’d taken to the role of hostess as if she’d been born for it. Sakura didn’t particularly like her—didn’t particularly like any of Ino’s girl friends; still resented most of them—but Lily herself wasn’t so bad. She and Kiba made a good couple. She was a bit of a control freak, helped keep him from going too far, and he was carefree and reckless enough that he made her a bit more easygoing.

Sakura had a blanket invitation to those parties, but she’d gone to the one and it had been one time too many. Not that it hadn't been fun, seeing Naruto getting drunk and even more ridiculous than usual, pretending to kiss a pillow next to her (“gimme a kiss, Sakuraaa! There’s only one year left…”) and she’d had a surprisingly nice conversation with Lily while she helped the girl arrange the party snacks. But the parties were too long, starting in the afternoon and stretching a bit into the night; the music was too loud, and not her style at all; and there was so much  _ alcohol. _ Sakura simply didn’t feel comfortable.

But those were all peripheral reasons. What had made that party so distasteful was how Ino had seemed to ignore her from start to finish. 

It wasn’t as if they were usually attached at the hip. But it was pretty damn hypocritical of her to make so many demands of attention and then ignore Sakura like that! She’d been around the  _ girls _ all night, and only responded monosyllabically when Sakura had tried to strike up conversation—twice. And all the time she hadn’t spent with the girls, she’d spent sitting on the lap of a boy named Sai, who was the new kid in class. Sakura hadn’t seen it, but she heard from Lily that they’d hooked up.

It hadn’t gone unnoticed that Ino had kissed the boy everyone commented was scary similar to Sasuke.

A while ago, Sakura had asked Ino if she still liked Sasuke. Their geography teacher had requested a group presentation, and Sakura, Sasuke, Naruto, Ino, Lily, Kiba and a weird boy named Shino had formed a group together, Shino having joined them because he’d ended up alone. Sakura had taken control of the organization and division of themes, and was overseeing others’ work when she noticed that Ino and Sasuke were chatting about the differences and similarities in the biomes each of them had to talk about. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen those two interact, but somehow she’d assumed Ino was still into him—after all, Sakura herself still was. But Ino had giggled airily when Sakura inquired, as if the notion was ridiculous.

“Course not, silly. It’s been god knows how long! And anyways, I prefer my crushes when they don’t act as if they hate me.”

She spoke as if it were so easy, to choose who your heart sped up for. Sakura stared uncomprehendingly at her best friend, the most confident person she knew. Aside from Naruto, that is. But perhaps even more than him, Sakura reasoned, since Naruto’s overconfidence was almost a challenge to all the people who thought he was not good enough. Teachers called him dumb? Well, guess what, he was going to be  _ president. _ There was deep insecurity lurking under all that swagger, she’d come to find out. Not Ino, though. She was just… eerily certain of her own worth. Wouldn’t go around boasting about it, or making other people feel lesser, but there was something about her posture, about how, over the past year or so, she’d started to not let anyone treat her with disrespect, cutting people up with whip-like irony when they tried to diminish her. Her friend had been changing, Sakura realised, and she’d almost been too caught up in her own shit to take notice.

And it wasn’t just psychologically that Ino had changed. She was tall, now, taller than Sakura, when they used to be of the same height. Her body was also looking more womanly, less girlish. Her breasts were the second largest in class (no one had bigger breasts than Hinata), her waist had gotten thin and her hips had widened a bit. Sakura herself still looked mostly pre-pubescent, with a stockier build—her waist wasn’t very thin and her breasts were still in development (it was better to think in those terms, rather than call them “pathetically small bug bites”). The things that had changed the most about her had been her thighs and arms, which were now corded with muscle from volleyball class, and her hair, which she’d decided to dye bubblegum pink, frustrated with how washed out she'd looked with her dark blond hair.

Looking at Ino then, she'd seemed miles ahead of Sakura. Sakura had always had that impression, as if she were forever chasing her best friend’s scent, hiding in her shadow, mimicking her ways, but it had never hit her so strongly just how far behind she was. To still be crushing on the same boy since she’d learned her abc’s while Ino had evolved into a strong young woman.

“Ino, I… I like Sasuke,” Sakura confessed, finally done with lying. Oh god, that felt weird to say out loud. “I’ve always liked Sasuke, since we were children. Since before even you did, I think. I’d never told you because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, and it was more important to me than a boy, and,” words started tumbling out as she worked herself up, “-and, I had half a mind to let you keep him, but you two never got together, and then his  _ parents _ died, and wasn’t that just…” She paused for a second and tried to be more coherent. “I-I tried not to betray you. And I truly thought I was over him, I swear. But turns out I’m not.”

Ino was looking at her, blue eyes wide with something Sakura couldn’t quite pinpoint. It wasn’t usual for Sakura to not be able to read her expression. 

“What about Naruto?” she asked.

“Oh.  _ That. _ I, un, I lied.”

Ino blew a gust of air upwards, to get her bangs out of her face.

“Yeah, I figured. You’d never really seemed all that crazy about him, to be honest.”

Sakura looked down at the floor, ashamed at having used Naruto like that. She cared about him now, deeply. But she couldn't say that the possibility of hurting him in a not so far future didn't make her hate herself a little.

“I wasn’t. He’s my friend now, but I don’t see him as anything more.”

“I’m not sure if he feels something for you still. Most of the time it seems like he’s joking, but who knows with Naruto? You’ve got, what, less than a year until your time’s up?" Her voice turned contemplative. "I always thought it was a bit odd that your father insisted you turned sixteen before you could date. He's so chill and open-minded most of the time. Should've known it was a lie." Ino shook herself off. "Anyways, you should stop being unfair and tell him he's got no chance with you.”

There was a judgemental undertone to her voice that made Sakura break out in a sweat.

“Are you angry at me?”

“Um, a bit?!” Ino looked at her as if stung. “I know me and Naruto aren’t best buddies or anything, but I do actually consider him a friend, you know.”

“Not about that,” Sakura dismissed with a wave of her hand—though she was happy Ino liked Naruto. She poked at him so much Sakura sometimes wondered. “About… Sasuke. Are you mad I lied to you for so many years? That I was unfair. To you.”

“Well…” Ino pursed her lips. “It’s not  _ nice _ to find out you’ve been lied to, but you were a kid. And I’m glad you care so much about our friendship. I do too. I really don’t care about Sasuke anymore, you know? It’s okay if you do. I’m sorry I made you feel like it wasn’t; I was a kid too. And… back in seventh grade, letting the girls treat you like that... that was awful of me.”

Sakura was a bit shell-shocked. “You remember?”

“It’s been three years, not three  _ decades. _ Of course I remember.” She scoffed. “As if I’d forget the time I was unforgivably shitty to my best friend. And not very feminist of me, huh? Betraying the sisterhood. Mum would have my spleen for lunch if she knew.”

Sakura laughed. Mrs. Yamanaka was a psychiatrist with a fondness for social movements, especially feminism. Ino had walked around in little Frida Kahlo and Simone de Beauvoir t-shirts since before she was able to pronounce their names.

“I forgive you if you forgive me too.”

And that had been the end of that. Or at least Sakura had thought. Then, she went to Kiba’s party and was completely ignored. Not to mention Ino had sucked face with a Sasuke look-alike who was, for the record, not nearly as handsome as Sasuke. And his aloofness was  _ much _ less interesting than Sasuke’s too!

Hadn’t they been okay? Ino had seemed genuinely honest when she’d said she held no grudges.

But again, Sakura herself was an experienced liar. Perhaps Ino was too.

And Sakura didn’t know who to talk to. She and her mother had drifted apart over the last few years. They weren’t distant, far from it, but it just didn’t feel as natural to tell your mother all about your teenage woes at fifteen as it had felt at ten or twelve years old. She was close enough to Naruto, but she couldn’t very well confess that she’d never liked him and then ask for advice, all on the same breath. And Sasuke… they’d grown to be friends, or something like it, over the past several months. Sakura was torn between thinking he’d have some pretty wise, sound advice to give, and thinking he’d just sneer at her and mock her for being so shaken up by something this childish. Not to mention it would be damn near impossible to explain the situation without mentioning she liked him, which was a fact he wouldn’t be finding out… ever, if she had any say.

So she kept to herself. The only plan she could come up with was some passive aggressive bullshit tactic, such as drifting apart from Ino with no explanation and waiting for her to seek Sakura out and apologize. Sakura strongly suspected it wouldn’t work, though, since Ino seemed to be doing the avoiding thing pretty successfully all on her own.

It all came to a head the following week. There was another party at Kiba’s. Naruto had begged for her to go (and didn't bother asking Sasuke, already knowing his answer), but she didn't say yes. Sasuke just didn’t like a lot of things and disliked most of the things a party entailed, and most of the people that would be attending too. Not to mention he was still angry about Naruto getting himself beat up every other week because of these parties—it seemed that Naruto's uncle wasn't very fond of parties either, but Naruto still kept going. 

Sakura, on the other hand, wouldn't be going because she had to study for chemistry—there were a couple of things she hadn’t quite understood during Mr Orochimaru's lecture. Besides, seeing Ino all chummy with the  _ girls _ (even in her head it sounded spiteful) and Sai (she’d taken to sitting on his lap in school too, since apparently sitting on him in parties wasn’t enough) wasn’t Sakura’s idea of a good time. Not to mention, she really didn’t like alcohol, unless Naruto was the only one drunk. 

There was just something that alcohol managed to drag out of people… Naruto never drank all that much, and he’d only get a bit sillier. But the rest of them, they’d go overboard and get disgusting-clingy, or violent, or so wasted their bodies got unresponsive. It was scary, and repulsive in an odd,  _ oily _ way, and made Sakura feel like, if she wanted to be clean again, she had to take a bath so hot her skin fell off. 

Not to mention, the mere idea of drinking herself, of losing control in such a way, made her feel panicky.

The party happened on Friday. Most of her classmates who’d be attending had lunch in the restaurants next to the school, and then walked the short distance to Kiba’s house, as was their usual mo. Sakura saw them leave class all excited, backpacks a bit fatter than usual, stuffed with their clothes and their booze, exchanging naughty smiles of people with a shared secret. She spent the whole afternoon anxious, silently worrying for Ino as she always did. What if she drank so much she blacked out? Her mother would skin her. She'd allowed Ino to have Friday afternoons for herself. If she crossed the line, she wouldn't be going out again for god knows how long. And what if someone took advantage of her? That Sai boy specifically was very odd. They were only fifteen, but there was no predefined age limit to how old a boy had to be to be a rapist.

She kept texting Naruto, which was the next best thing, ordering him to take it easy and not drink too much (but she had the feeling she didn’t need to worry about that), to which he replied with “yes, ma’am”, “sure, mum” and variations. He was also surprisingly good in keeping her updated on what was happening at the party, making goofy little comments and snapping a few pictures. As long as he didn’t say anything worrying about Ino, Sakura was sure she was safe. She couldn’t make herself ask for Naruto to keep an eye out for her, since it would be admitting that she was both in bad terms with Ino  _ and _ worried about her, and Sakura’s pride wouldn’t stand for it.

But she had the feeling Naruto was more perceptive than he let on, since once in a while she’d get an update about Ino, more detailed than the rest.

_ HOLY SHIT DAKURA HOKY SHIT, _ was the text she received just as the sun touched the horizon, late afternoon. The party should be almost drawing to a close.

Sakura’s heart pounded.  **What, you idiot?**

_ Youre not gonna believe what just happened!!! :O _

**What?** What if—god, she hoped not.

_ Guess ;) _

**Stop being funny and tell me right now.**

**I will fucking murder you in your sleep.**

**Naruto!!!!!!**

About three minutes passed until Naruto responded, but it felt like it had been much longer. All sorts of gruesome scenarios went through her mind during that short period.

When "typing…" appeared right next to Naruto's contact name ("Dumbass" with a smirking cat emoji), Sakura started to bounce her leg from nerves.

_ Ive just seen ino kiss a chick!!!!!!!!!!!!! _

And that. Was not what Sakura expected.  _ At all. _

The only thing she had the presence of mind to ask was  **Who?**

_ Its an older girl!  _

_ Dont think tou know her _

_ Blond, strong _

_ Pretty hot _

_ Go ino!!!!! Team getting beat up by pretty women ftwww _

_ Shes in my an d sasukes muay thai class _

He attached a blurry photo. They were still kissing, it seemed. It had been about five minutes since Naruto had sent the first message, so at least five minutes since they’d started. A five minute kiss, and still going strong, apparently.

Was that… normal? Sakura's only kiss had been that quick peck with Naruto three years ago. Hardly anything to write home about.

Sakura’s heart was pounding. She had no idea what it meant that her best friend was kissing girls now. Was she a lesbian? Or was it a fluke, like Katy Perry’s  _ I kissed a girl _ song? Did that mean she might like—

_ Stop right there, Sakura, _ she told herself. That was a dangerous (and very unfair) train of thought. Ino  _ definitely _ didn't like Sakura, just like Sakura liked boys, but that didn't mean she liked every boy she was friends with. The whole Naruto situation—which she still had to fix, she reminded herself—was happening because she couldn't make her heart want Naruto, fixated as it was on Sasuke. Even though she was one hundred percent sure it would be much less painful to be into Naruto, even if he didn't reciprocate her feelings. He wasn't the sort of person to make offhanded mean comments, and had absolutely no cruel bone in his body. If nothing else, at least, if she had a crush on Naruto, he wouldn't say something rude every once in a while and make her feel like shit for days, or even weeks. No, that was more Sasuke's deal.

Sakura didn't like every boy she was friends with, and the same was probably true for Ino. Sakura was pretty sure her best friend didn't fancy her. Only, it seemed as if she fancied someone else. This hot, blond, muay thai girl.

Sakura, against her better judgement, put the brightness of her phone on max and zoomed in. There it was, Ino’s incredibly long ponytail, reaching past her—was that a  _ hand _ on her ass? Sakura blinked, face beyond red at that point. Sure enough, there it was, the mysterious girl’s hand on Sakura’s best friend’s ass. Ino was pressing the girl into the wall, both hands on the girl’s waist, it seemed, and the girl’s other hand was around Ino’s neck.

It was so odd seeing Ino like that. It belied everything she thought was true about her friend. Ino was  _ extremely _ feminine. Her voice was high, her hands were delicate, she liked to sit on boys’ laps, for fuck’s sake! To be… pushing another girl like that into a wall… was awful manly. But that wasn’t it, was it? Women did that too, she figured. Lesbians, and such. But Sakura was pretty sure lesbians weren’t girly like Ino.

_ Names Temari!!!  _

_ Fucking shit sakura LMFAOOOO _

**What is it?** , she asked, a bit worried despite the shock. Perhaps something had happened. Perhaps that Temari girl had done something. 

_ Oh nothing chill gurl _

_ Its just pretty fucjing hot _

**You’re a moron**

_ Love u too s2 _

Sakura figured Ino was in no immediate danger, and even if she were, what help could Sakura be, miles away from her? Sakura felt awkward and itchy and claustrophobic. She needed to focus on something else. Preferably the homework she was yet to finish.

**I’ve got to go**

**Bye**

**Be careful**

**Call me if you need anything**

_ Mother hen _

_ Fine sakuraaaa _

_ Byee love youu s3 _


	9. Chapter 9

The party had happened on Friday. Sakura was sure it was all a great ruse for her to torture herself until she could see Ino again at school. Sakura hadn't worked herself into a frenzy, but it was a near thing. She had to talk to Ino about being ignored for a week, but she felt like Ino kissing a girl would be the elephant in the room. She kept rehearsing in her head dozens of possible conversations, and, somehow, not one of them felt as if it were the one she'd been having on Monday. Sunday morning, Sakura woke up from a half-remembered dream, and the only thing she was certain of was that it had involved Ino somehow and that it had left her feeling antsy.

She wasn't sure she felt  _ betrayed _ per se. Though it definitely would’ve been nice if she hadn’t had to find out through Naruto. She just felt something very unpleasant, and rather a lot. Plus, there was a distinct possibility that there was no reason to feel betrayed: Ino could have only been trying it out, or had discovered her attraction in that party, specifically, or it was directed at the Temari girl in particular—whatever it was that was so special about her. But it still stung. And despite the fact that Sakura could organise the amount of times she'd lied to Ino by time, color, gravity of the lie and alphabetical order, it didn't mean she didn't feel some hypocritical righteous anger. 

When Monday finally dawned (the night before had stretched on for forever, Sakura not being able to sleep properly from nerves and waking up every half hour or so), Sakura showered, had breakfast and got to school on time. However, her efforts to go along with her day normally weren't very successful: her stomach kept trying to expel its contents—yes, she was  _ that _ nervous—and she sweated so much from stress that whatever cleanliness she'd achieved from the shower had been rendered null. She probably stank.

Sakura sat down behind Naruto heavily.

"Hey, Sakura!" he greeted, beaming.

"Hey," she greeted back, albeit a bit more gloomingly.

When she looked at his face, the tentative smile she'd been sporting faded into a grimace.

"What was it this time?" she asked, looking disapprovingly at his split lip.

"Ah don't worry. There was this girl at the party that liked biting so much she nearly chewed half my lip off."

Naruto had made it a game to create either weird or sexual explanations for the wounds his uncle inflicted on him. 

"Is there any bruising I can't see?" Was there anything under his clothes, she meant. 

He pouted. He always did when she didn't play along.

"Some,” he mumbled. “Nothing serious; I put some ice in it and it's trying out all the colors on the rainbow. Currently, it's a lovely forest green."

Sakura rolled her eyes. "Idiot. Make one of those next to Sasuke and see what happens."

Naruto snorted. Both of them knew just how well Sasuke would take one of his little jokes.

Sakura and Sasuke had tried to convince him not to go to the parties, since more often than not his uncle would notice he'd been drinking, or, if he didn't, simply be angry his nephew had gotten home so late. Sakura usually yelled a bit and called him all sorts of names, but there was a distinct sense of caring under her tough love. Sasuke, on the other hand, had once been furious when Naruto had arrived at school after one of the parties not managing to take a step without wincing. He'd dragged Naruto over to a deserted nook of school to inspect his chest. Naruto's ribs hadn't been broken, but it looked like it was a near thing. Naruto's uncle was a violent son of a bitch, no doubt there, but it could be worse, Sakura mused. In all the time she'd known Naruto, nothing had ever been broken or severely injured, but it appeared that the first time he'd caught his nephew drunk had made him step it up a bit.

Sasuke had cursed at Naruto with a viciousness that had taken all of them by surprise. He'd fisted his hand on the neck of Naruto's t-shirt and spat on his face,

"When you end up on a fucking hospital bed, or  _ dead, _ don't come crawling back to us. You can do something to get your dad off your back,  _ you do it, _ you selfish son of a bitch. There's no reason to go around drinking. If you think it makes you any less of a child, guess what. It  _ doesn't." _

Naruto had gaped at first, staring shocked at Sasuke's livid face. Sakura had been struck dumb too—Sasuke was prone to anger, but she'd never seen him quite like that. Soon, however, Naruto seemed to gather the necessary defiance that let them know his spirit wouldn't be so easily broken.

"Well, fuck you too, Sasuke! What's in it to you?" Naruto pried Sasuke's hand off his shirt forcibly. "I'm not gonna stop living like  _ you _ did just because life's shitty. I'm not a coward. There's things worth living for, and having  _ fun _ is one of them. Not that you'd know."

Sasuke snarled and pushed at Naruto's chest, making him stumble back a couple of steps and let out a small yelp of pain, putting a hand to his side. "Shut up!"

Sakura's heart squeezed with worry. Had Sasuke aggravated Naruto's injuries?

"Sasuke! Naruto! Stop it, now!"

It was like watching a car crash. Sakura felt useless. She wanted to step in, get between them, but they looked so aggressive and high-strung her self-defense instincts were speaking louder. She was practically glued to the floor.

"No,  _ you _ shut up!" Naruto continued, as if she hadn't spoken. "My life's none of your concern, you uptight motherfucker!"

"Reckless, good-for-nothing buffon!" Naruto's eyebrows furrowed. Sakura's lifted up in bemusement. That was some colorful, fancy swearwords right there. When Sasuke continued, though, whatever amusement his odd swearing might have caused vanished like smoke. "You're gonna end up alone," he seethed. That made Naruto's anger be eclipsed by shock, something like fear flashing in his eyes, "because no one's going to stick around to see you dig your own grave."

Sasuke stormed off, apparently unable to resist his flair for the dramatic—or his obsessive need to have the last word. 

After a few seconds, Naruto still hadn't moved, so Sakura approached carefully.

"Hey," she said, soft. She pulled on Naruto's hand to sit him down at the closest bench. She sat back on her heels next to him. "Pull that shirt up again, please?"

Naruto did it without complaint. His face looked dumb like that, wide eyed and mostly unaware of his surroundings.

Was it a trick of the light, or had the purple bruising gotten worse after Sasuke's push? Sakura skimmed her fingers lightly on top of the wounds.

"I'm gonna run to the cafeteria real quick to get you some ice. Can you wait for me?"

Naruto nodded, still looking stupid. Sakura stood up.

"Hey, it's okay. He didn't mean it. I don't know if you noticed, but he was worried sick. When he first saw you, I thought he was gonna faint or something."

Naruto managed a weak smile. "Dramatic princess."

Sakura mussed up his wild hair like she would a child's. 

"He was sort of right though. Not that the people who care about you will leave you, but that you're reckless and that you do those things without a thought to who's going to worry seeing you get hurt."

The softer approach seemed to get through to him in a way Sasuke's violent invasion of an argument hadn't. Naruto looked slightly chastised, but still too proud to admit he might be a tiny bit wrong.

"It's just a boo-boo," Naruto grumbled like the baby he was. "Dunno why you guys are making such a big deal out of it."

"It's just a...  _ boo-boo…" _ she grimaced at the infantile word, "now. But I never met your uncle, and I don't know the worst he's capable of. And I don't think you do either."

"But I-"

Sakura was already turning around.

"Shh, I'm gonna get your ice now. Otherwise you'll have no time to put it on your bruising before class starts. I'll be right back."

Naruto and Sasuke had patched things up, sort of—if either of them had ever heard of the word "sorry", Sakura'd be damned, but they had gradually started talking again—and that was that. Naruto still continued going to the parties, his uncle would still beat him up every once in a while (and it was specially shitty because he had mostly stopped hurting Naruto before that) and Sasuke still pouted and turned his nose and avoided talking about it. And Sakura was still caught in the middle, agreeing on the sentiment of Sasuke's anger, if not on the way he'd expressed it. 

Speaking of Sasuke, he still hadn't arrived, but he was late more often than not, so Sakura thought nothing of it. His cousin Obito was the one who dropped him off, and he usually ran late, according to Sasuke.

Naruto leaned forward to whisper.

"So, Ino, huh?"

Sakura jumped.

"Ino what?!"

"Woah, relax. I mean, Ino kissing a girl. It's unexpected, isn't it? Or—wait, did you know already? You guys are like sisters, you knew alright! You little skank! Why didn't you tell me?"

Sakura narrowed her eyes at Naruto's whining.

"Because it was none of your damn business."

"Sheesh. Sick burn, Haruno."

"Oh, shut up, you," she said, sullen, and he laughed in response. It dragged a smile out of her—Naruto's obnoxious loud guffaw was very endearing, not that she'd admit it.

"Speak of the devil," he whispered.

Sakura's head turned in the direction of the classroom door so fast the joints on her neck popped. Ino had just come in, long hair in the usual ponytail, bangs covering the right side of her face. She wore jeans and a sleeveless shirt that was so loose around the breasts and upper torso that it formed layers of spare fabric. It looked elegant, not that it was surprising. Most of her stuff was very expensive and high-end.

She really didn't look much different from most days.

"She looks normal," Naruto commented, as if echoing her thoughts.

"What, did you expect her to cut her hair pixie style and start wearing extra large t-shirts?" she mocked, as if she hadn't been struggling with those idiot femininity questions herself. "Terribly heteronormative of you."

"Hey, I did not! I just… isn't it weird she's exactly the same? Somehow, I just… can't reconcile the old Ino with a lesbian." Naruto blushed. "Or… a girl who kisses girls. Whatever." Another part of Sakura's comment seemed to register. "And you say that as if you aren't straight yourself! Hypocrite."

Sakura understood exactly what he meant, and she thought so too, but she wouldn't admit to it unless under torture. 

"Wait,  _ you, _ straight?" she taunted instead. "Don't think so. Never thought of sucking dick? Some  _ big _ hard ju—"

"Sakura," a well-known voice said, interrupting her. Sakura's head turned Ino's direction. Sakura blushed as she realized Ino had probably heard what she'd been saying. "We need to talk."

There was still seven minutes until classes started, according to the wall clock above the whiteboard. Sakura nodded dumbly and pat Naruto in the head in goodbye.

"Be right back."

He waved in response, looking dumbstruck.

There was a deserted corridor nearby, full of the empty classrooms high school teachers used when their own classroom's videoprojector wasn't functioning, or when the air conditioning broke. Ino led Sakura there, but didn't speak at first, the two girls staring at each other silently for a few seconds.

"So…" Sakura started. "Not ignoring me anymore, are you?"

Ino's face, that had been guarded but not hostile, turned angry.

"Rich coming from you, isn't it?" she hissed. 

"Oi, what's that supposed to mean?!" Sakura snapped. "Last time I checked,  _ I _ wasn't the one who ignored you during a  _ whole _ party, or continued ignoring you for a week afterwards."

"Seems like the last time you checked was a long time ago."

Sakura frowned. Ino had mumbled, but the snide comment had clearly been meant for Sakura to hear. And Sakura was still angry, but she refused to speak again before Ino explained herself. After a standstill that lasted over a (very tense) minute, Ino gave in.

"Fine. You haven't had time for me in forever. It's always Naruto this, or Sasuke that— _ especially _ Sasuke. I wonder why...?"

"Shut up," Sakura complained, sharp, looking around in mild alarm. This wasn't a very populated area, but it was close enough to the occupied classrooms that they weren't all that secluded from prying ears.

Ino ignored her.

"I guess what I liked most about you being the only one who didn't like Sasuke wasn't the lack of...  _ competition," _ she said it mockingly, as if she didn't think Sakura was much of a competition at all, "but because you were  _ my _ friend. Like… you would prioritize me, or something. But I guess not."

Was Ino mad she was spending time with other people other than her? Spending time with Naruto and Sasuke, and feeling left behind? 

Sakura remembered the tantrum Ino had thrown when Sakura suggested they paired up with other people for some assignments.

"What is it with you always treating me as if I'm your property?"

"What is it with  _ you _ always treating me like a third option?!"

"What? You're my best friend, Ino! If anything, you're my first option."

Ino pressed her lips together, face pinched and angry.

"See, you're lying. Because you haven't been there for me since the divorce, and that was last year, and even then, you didn't  _ notice _ I was sad. I had to tell you." Sakura tried to speak, but Ino held up her hand. "No, don't try; I had to  _ tell you. _ You sit next to Naruto and Sasuke in class. You talk about them more often than not when it's just the two of us spending time together. And even worse, you keep referencing stuff about them that you can't even tell me!"

"What do you mean? That makes no sense."

"Don't play dumb. You'll make... some offhand comment, about Naruto's family or something, and when I ask what you're talking about, you go all 'oh Inooo, I can't tell you, it's not my secret to tell'. So why talk about it in the first place?!"

Sakura was willing to concede Ino might be right about that, but she still had her pride.

"Is that why you're angry? Why didn't you just tell me to my face to stop talking about Naruto and Sasuke's secrets?"

"That's NOT why I'm angry, don't twist my words. I was  _ exemplifying. _ I am angry because you don't care about me anymore. You don't notice when I'm sad, you don't seem to care about my problems. It's like everything that's not Sasuke and Naruto is  _ secondary." _

That was not true.

"Ino, of course I care about you! It's just that the boys' problems are so…" Ino's nostrils flared and her eyes flashed dangerously. Sakura had a true talent for putting her foot in her mouth, it seemed. "Not bigger! But like…"

"... But like…  _ bigger, _ right?" Ino said acidly.

"That's not what I meant! You're putting words in my mouth."

"That's exactly what you meant, and  _ that _ is why I'm angry! You don't care. Am I less because I'm not deeply traumatized? Should I have someone murder my family to be worth your time?"

"Don't mock Sasuke," Sakura snapped. She wouldn't stand for it. “Not about that.”

"Whatever." Ino seemed a bit embarrassed, like she knew she'd crossed the line. "But my point still stands."

Before Sakura could even think of something to say, the bell rang. She let out an angry huff. First class was chemistry, with Mr. Orochimaru. The man was notorious for being a very good teacher, very demanding and very punctual. They should get to class now if they didn't want to get on his bad side.

"It's Orochimaru," said Sakura. "We should get going."

Ino nodded.

"Yeah." She didn't move. When she spoke, her tone wasn’t angry or snappish anymore, just serious. "Sakura, I think it's best if we're not friends anymore."

Sakura felt as if she hadn't heard it right.

"What?!"

"I don't feel comfortable around you anymore. It's for the best." Then, she added, as if she couldn't resist being a tad spiteful, "Not much is gonna change for you, though. Don't worry. You still have the boys."

Ino turned around and started walking to class.

"And you still have your girls!" Sakura yelled after her, a bit dumbly. She felt alien in her own skin. "You always wanted to choose them over me anyway!" Ino didn't respond, and disappeared around the corner of the corridor. “You were just-!” the last part came out in a whisper, now that Ino couldn’t hear it anymore, “just looking for an excuse.”

Sakura gave herself a few seconds before she, too, ran to class. She arrived at the same time as her teacher.

“Sorry, Mr. Orochimaru,” she said.

“It’s okay, kid. Go sit down.”

She sat down on her chair, forcing herself not to look Ino’s way.

“Are you okay?” Naruto whispered. He sounded concerned. “Did you fight because of the whole… girl-kissing thing?”

“What? No, I-” she had actually forgotten all about it. “I mean, yes. We did fight, but not because of the kiss. It’s—it’s complicated.”

Naruto still looked worried, but he didn’t pry further. He turned back to face the board. Orochimaru had started talking, and he had a zero tolerance policy with parallel conversations during his lectures.

Sakura was thankful for the reprieve. She wanted to be left alone. For some reason, she didn’t feel capable of crying at the moment, but it didn’t mean she didn’t feel bad. It was like a physical ache, pressing on her chest, so much that her breathing was the slightest bit labored. She couldn’t remember ever hurting like that.

Her mind supplied, probably thinking itself helpful, that Ino had probably said it in the heat of the moment. That they would get back to talking in a few days. Few weeks at most.

But Sakura knew better. That had felt awfully final. None of their previous fights had been anything like that. Ino had really meant it.

And indeed, they wouldn’t speak to each other again for a year.


	10. Chapter 10

Sakura didn’t seek Ino out. She couldn’t. She missed Ino, but the time she spent apart from her (both the week before the fight, when she was being ignored, and all the months that followed it) made Sakura realize that Ino might have a point. She felt Ino’s absence acutely, thought about her in odd moments, felt the urge to talk to her, share a funny anecdote or a story that happened on her family, or with the boys. Only Ino’s absence hurt in the way a sore thumb did: you don’t think all that much about thumbs most of the time, unless they’re hurting, or simply not there anymore. 

Sakura remembered the short Brazilian film that her sociology teacher had shown in class, ‘Isle of Flowers’. The film used heavy irony to criticize social inequality, and the argumentative strategy was to imitate a documentary, overexplaining every single thing and then exposing brutally how absurd poverty and inequity were. One of the things the film overexplains is humankind, described as differing from other mammals thanks to a highly developed telencephalon and opposable thumbs. Opposable thumbs are pretty awesome, according to the narrator, since they allow humans to precisely manipulate objects thanks to the pincer movement of our thumbs alongside the other fingers.

And it was just that, wasn’t it? Ino was extremely important to Sakura. Sakura couldn’t imagine her life without her best friend, and had no idea what kind of person she’d be now if not for Ino’s influence. They had shaped each other in more ways than they could possibly pinpoint. But Ino had been taken for granted, and only now, without her, did Sakura notice it.

While it hadn’t always been that way—Sakura had valued Ino  _ too much _ when they were younger, putting Ino’s feelings in front of her own in a way that was perhaps not very healthy—in the last few years, when Sakura became friends with people other than Ino, she’d neglected her friend past the breaking point of their friendship.

It led her to wonder: was she that shitty a friend? Was she only loyal to Ino as a child because she’d had no one else? It was one of the things she’d admired the most about herself, how she’d so steadfastly brushed her own crush aside to avoid hurting her friend. It was the thing she admired the most about Naruto too, his loyalty. It hurt to think her own might be fake. That  _ she _ might be fake. Inauthentic. And it was a teenager’s prerogative, wasn't it, to strive for authenticity and originality, but feeling so… mortal, and selfish, stung like a son of a bitch.

Sakura couldn’t seek Ino out to apologize and try to make it right. She had no right, since she didn’t deserve Ino’s friendship anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for whoever's reading this, the short film I mentioned indeed exists, and it's quite popular here in brasil, and it has won a shitload of awards. it's practically mandatory for >at least< the sociology teacher to show it to us during high school, but it's been shown to me, like, four times, by four different teachers. it's really good. you may find it under the name "isle of flowers" or "island of flowers". the original narrator's voice is more expressive, in my opinion, so you should def watch the original with subtitles, but theres english dub too. it's only like 13 min long, and it's totally worth it
> 
> for the record, i kind of blended things from brazilian schools with american schools (i actually went to elementary and middle school in a large school that's quite similar to the one in this au), so some things might not be very similar to the american educational system, but. idk, it felt right to write my old school. familiar. hope the differences don't irk anyone too much


	11. Chapter 11

There were precious few human afflictions time couldn't cure, or at least soothe. It may not seem so in the beginning, but time had an irresistible gravity. We're all subjected to it, slaves to it. 

Perhaps, if we had some sort of special eye power, that recorded what happened so it could be replayed in our heads forevermore, resentment and hurt might be allowed to fester beyond their natural lifespans, but, alas, Sakura was one hundred percent human. So she got better.

Her mood stabilized. Even her parents noticed—they commented they'd been thinking about putting her in a psychologist, but she seemed to be doing better now. If she wanted to, though, they said they'd be happy to pay for it.

Sakura declined. She wouldn't feel comfortable telling a stranger her problems, nor would she let her parents, not rich by a large margin, waste money on her unnecessarily. She'd toughen up.

One day, after four or five months, more or less, Sakura thought about Ino at random and found that it didn't feel like putting salt on an open wound anymore. At most, it ached in the way poking with a nail at a healing scab did. It was manageable, a far shot from how desolate and angry she'd felt at first and likely to hurt even less in the not so far future.

Sakura turned sixteen. Time seemed to be moving so fast. It seemed like it was yesterday that she was being held in her mother's arms in the kitchen, asking her if she should prioritize her best friend or her boy crush. A lot of small moments stood out like fireflies in the darkness.

Itachi, Sasuke's brother, coming to visit Sasuke in Elementary School, poking at his baby brother's forehead and looking down at him with what had looked, to Sakura, like tenderness.

Sasuke getting to class with eyes red from crying, Rebecca calling Sakura a slut, Sakura going over to Sasuke.

Talking to Ino at the bleachers, lying to get her trust back. Naruto playing dodgeball.

Being kissed by Naruto at the bus stop. 

Doing her maths homework—and why was it that she remembered so clearly to have been studying basic arithmetic on that day?—and seeing Sasuke's parents' faces in the news.

The headline.  _ Police Commissioner and wife found dead in marriage bed. Older son is the primary suspect. _

Ino's parents' divorce, and then Sasuke telling her that Naruto was suffering abuse—or, wait. Didn't Sasuke talk to her before the divorce? Or was it the other way around? Sakura wasn't sure.

In a way, all of those were perfectly linear in her mind, even if she sometimes wondered if she'd gotten their order right. But they were also, somehow, all at the same time. Like her memory was a forest clearing at night, and she could just stretch her arm and grab the first firefly she could get her hands on, not earlier or later than any other firefly, just the one she'd grabbed first.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: transphobic misconceptions of bisexuality

Before getting better, however, Sakura got worse. 

At twenty-two years old, Sakura had half-remembered half-forgotten memories of those first few months without Ino, though how difficult they’d been and how out of sorts she’d felt would probably never fade from her mind, more emotion than events. But they hadn’t even been difficult in the traditional sense—she wouldn’t go so far as to call herself sad, though she’d been sad, a lot. But she’d also been petty, and angry—even sometimes happy—but, strangely enough, apathy also set in with a vengeance. 

Aside from the times Sakura was mature enough to let herself feel guilty and miss Ino, Sakura didn’t really think about the other girl in good terms. Her feelings were too harsh for that to be so. Sakura felt the nastiest things when she heard Ino’s laugh at school when she didn’t expect it. Sakura had made a point out of not looking Ino’s way, ever, but her ears would figuratively perk up like a dog’s, her heart would beat faster for a split second and her head would turn on its own account when Ino’s high laughter reached her senses. Then she’d see Ino laughing with whoever she was laughing with, and she’d feel a mix of jealousy and rage that would make her cheeks burn.

She also resented Ino because of the rumors that the end of their friendship had started. The gossipers had apparently connected the dots (that shouldn’t have been connected) and assumed that Sakura had cut ties with Ino (and not the other way around) right after Ino kissed a girl at the party because Sakura was a raging homophobe. And they were fifteen at the time, getting to know social movements such as the LGBT movement and forming an opinion on things ranging from sexuality to race, though still superficially. So it was no wonder Sakura started receiving nasty looks from her classmates, and even from some people from the year above hers. That it was popular pretty rich girl Ino that had been the one “discriminated” against seemed to make all the difference in the world, since homophobic bullying wasn’t unheard of in their school, and, while it was far from accepted, never had it caused such collective outrage.

Sakura’s brand of apparent homophobia, however, didn’t quite fit in with the stereotypes of aggressive bigots—or perhaps the fact that Ino and Sakura didn’t interact  _ at all _ anymore, which made for boring gossip—made people let up a bit on the ostracism after a while.

Ino came out as bisexual at the end of ninth grade, a while after the fateful party. It sounded so alien to Sakura. Ino liked men  _ and _ women. Women and men. She knew bisexuality was a thing, but it was so difficult to truly comprehend compared to the hetero and homo dichotomy. Some part of her didn't even believe it was true, it kept nagging at her, telling her that it should be one or the other.

Which did Ino like the most? If she dated a boy, would she feel the need to hook up with girls on the side, or vice versa? And would she be forever dissatisfied if she ended up in a monogamous relationship? 

What did it mean? She’d pressed Temari into the wall so dominantly… Did she take turns being "the man"? Is she more submissive when she’s with boys? Or is she the same? Is it even possible for a woman to overpower a man like that when they are being intimate? Didn’t she miss penises?

Sakura thought she’d miss penises if she had to be with a girl. Neither genitalia sounded particularly appealing to her, to be honest—they both had a hint of graceful and an overpowering amount of grotesque to them—but it seemed natural, that she’d miss penises.

Was sex between two girls even properly sex? And was Ino having sex with girls? Or boys?

Those thoughts plagued Sakura a lot whenever she let her mind drift.

* * *

Naruto was worried sick those first few months. He’d tried to make her tell him what had happened with Ino multiple times, so insistently she would’ve said he was motivated by some sort of morbid curiosity if she didn’t know better. But Naruto was actually more selfless than that—or had a more uncommon brand of selfishness—and what he really wanted was to know what was wrong so he could knight-in-shining-armor make it better and make his friend not miserable anymore.

He was so adamant about getting an answer out of her that he  _ never _ stopped prying. And sometimes Sakura was feeling happy, or—much more often—detached and kind of numb, and then she could take it in stride. But it so happened that he also pried when she was angry, never really getting a feel of her mood as much as trying to steamroll into her feelings with little finesse. 

He once attempted it on the worst possible day, and that was when Sakura snapped. There had been a debate during English class about The Picture of Dorian Gray—a great book, really—and it led to her classmates talking about homophobia in modern society. Sakura wasn’t paying all that much attention. Then, someone threw a dog-whistle insult, and she didn’t quite catch what the person had said, but, when multiple heads turned around to look at her with smirks on, she understood she was the butt of some joke. 

Sakura had already been feeling uncharitable toward the world at large before that, having woken up in a mood; afterwards, she was ready to tear a man apart with her teeth. And Naruto decided, right after English class had ended and they sat down at the cafeteria to eat, that that moment was as good as any to pester her.

He started bombarding Sakura before she'd even taken a bite out of her sandwich, his words blending into one obnoxious wave of sound in her ears. 

“So Sakura, did you see that Ino got her ear pierced? Why do you think that is?"

“She’s been going out with-”

Her breath started to come short.

“And last week, when I went to Kiba’s, she was-”

“Why the fuck do you care so much?” she snapped.

It shut him up immediately. 

After a couple of seconds, he said, much more subdued, “I’m sorry. You’re my friend, Sakura, I’m just worried. Whatever it is, it’s not good for you, I can see it.”

Those words, instead of making her less angry, actually only irritated her further. She’d accepted she couldn’t be Ino’s friend anymore, and was trying to forget her and get better, but it was impossible to do so with Naruto yapping about her all the time. Was he trying to get a reaction out of Sakura? She’d give him one alright. Sakura felt angry enough to make the humidity in the air sizzle if it touched her feverish skin. It had been steadily building for over a month, her annoyance at him. 

“You don't have to lie, I know why you’re like this. But you know this is not happening, right? I never liked you, when we were kids, I just said I did to get  _ Ino,” _ she emphasized the name he was so fond of repeating nowadays, “off my back. So yeah, next year we won’t be dating, in case that wasn’t clear. So all this… just don’t bother. And stop. Talking. About her.”

She didn’t regret the words as soon as they left her mouth, or any such cliches. She knew very well what she was saying, and the consequences; only, at that moment, she didn’t care. She felt like he deserved it. It was also vaguely satisfying to finally get it out of her chest, rip it off like a band-aid, the lie that had lasted over three years. 

A small part of her, however, recoiled in shame and guilt seeing how his face fell when he heard her cruel words, wincing like he’d been slapped. She almost took it back immediately.

But still, most of Sakura felt like she hated Naruto a little. He and Sasuke were to blame for Sakura losing Ino, she thought sometimes, when she was unable to face her own fault. They were the ones who always sucked her into their tragic little lifes, she reasoned with herself. But, more than that, her outburst was  _ his _ fault for being so damn insistent.

He made her feel so guilty, letting her know all the time she was acting different, like she was to blame for not opening up or for not being as fun as usual. She thought, unfairly, she realized, but she did, that Naruto blamed her for being affected by her own personal stuff, that he resented her for being an individual in her own right for once, and not a third wheel in their friendship like she so often felt she was.

Naruto laughed slightly, but there wasn't much humor in it. His demeanor belied the uncaring person Sakura's mind was painting him as.

“I, well. I guess I never really believed you liked me. I mean, it’s, uh-” 

He blushed, looking uncomfortable and downcast, eyebrows twitching and furrowing.

“But you’re wrong,” he said after a second, this time more firmly. “I didn’t become your friend because I thought you liked me, or to—or to wait next to you until we could date, or whatever. I always thought you were nice and interesting, and I wanted to befriend you, but before the rumor that you liked me, I thought I didn’t stand a chance not even of being your friend. And we did become friends, so I’m worried about you and it has nothing to do with whether I date you or not.”

Sakura looked at him, surprise softening her sharp edges a little bit. She reconsidered.

"Naruto—" she started.

Whatever she meant to say—not even Sakura herself knew—it was lost when Sasuke sat down on the table next to them. He had stayed behind in the classroom to talk to their English teacher about a question from last week's homework.

"Hey," he greeted, stoic. After a second, he seemed to notice the strange tension between his friends. "Is… is everything alright?"

Sakura and Naruto played it cool and pretended nothing had happened. 

The following day, Sakura would apologize and Naruto would forgive it without a second thought, but things would still be strained for several weeks. Sasuke, like how he'd noticed the strange mood in the cafeteria table, would also notice the rift between his friends, but he'd say nothing.

* * *

The thing was, Sasuke was very different from Naruto. In some aspects, they were nearly polar opposites. While Naruto, despite loving, was a crude friend—crass and unpolished—to whom concepts like giving someone space and respecting their boundaries were unthinkable, Sasuke was respectful to a fault. The only time Sakura had seen him anything but had been back when they were fourteen and Naruto had come to school with a limp from getting beat up. Sakura figured he'd been so scared it had triggered a violent response out of him. Understandable, considering only two years before that he had been the one to find his parents dead and bloody the morning after their murder, and it was bound to leave emotional scars. Sakura thought that, had he had more time to reflect upon it, or if he'd learned about it in a less abrupt way, he wouldn't have confronted Naruto so belligerently, since he was always so mindful of others' comfort and autonomy.

Sakura would sometimes do something that she wasn't sure was right or wrong, and she'd look at Naruto and Sasuke for guidance, expecting—or wanting—to be reprimanded if she'd earned it. 

Eventually, when she wasn’t feeling so sensitive about the subject, she would sit Naruto and Sasuke down and tell them why she and Ino had fought (conveniently leaving out the fact that she had a years-long crush on Sasuke). Somewhat masochistically, she wanted to hear Sasuke agree with Ino, to confirm she was a shitty friend. But, like always, Sasuke only stared at her like he wanted to say something, like he had opinions to share, but then he just huffed and shrugged it off, saying most friendships ended within a few years anyway, that it so happened that it had been sooner rather than later for her and Ino. And Sakura had  _ wanted _ his opinion, damn it, but he seemed to act as if it wasn't his place to say anything, and, as simple as that, he wouldn't. Sakura usually convinced herself that, when he looked at her like that, he was thinking the worst judgmental stuff, so she tried to curb her actions accordingly.

He'd been concerned, she thought, just like Naruto had been, when she started to act different after she and Ino stopped talking. Naruto would usually snap back at her if she got too nasty and ill tempered, but Sasuke's dark deep eyes would only deepen further in some sort of understanding, like he could see through her, and he'd accept whatever jab she'd taken at him, his face a mask of indifference.

Whoever had said that the eyes are the windows to the soul had clearly never met an Uchiha. If they did, they'd know eyes are much more like fake windows painted on a bare strip of wall: a facsimile of a soul, misleading. The artist who paints them is very talented. Like the sfumato technique, there's a hazy quality to the outline of the windows that gives them an illusion of depth. Sakura thought sometimes that she could get lost in the darkness of Sasuke's eyes, fathomless, abyssal. The bottom of a pit you couldn't help but be drawn to, want to jump into, go against thousands of years worth of evolution and self-preservation instincts.

Though she admired how respectful he was, Sakura also resented him sometimes. She valued his opinion, but, more than that, she  _ needed _ it. She measured her self-worth more than she should based upon what he thought of her. Perhaps that was why, while she could afford to be angry at Naruto for being the reason she and Ino had fought, she couldn’t make herself feel anything but awe at Sasuke. She felt pathetic for being so fascinated by him, but she found herself unable to tame her own feelings.

The fact that he never said what it was that he thought of her meant that she was always guessing, always pruning herself, always hyper-aware and self-conscious. Living like that felt like Chinese water torture more often than not, a different torture from being around Ino every day—envying her for her multitude of friends, her beauty, her strenght of caracter, and most of all, just missing her—but it hurt almost as much.

**Author's Note:**

> I really appreciate kudos and comments. Lemme know what you think.


End file.
